


Princes and Soldiers

by alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist, kracken



Series: Princes and Soldiers [1]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, But not quite, Getting to Know Each Other, Lemon, M/M, Mission Fic, Past and Present, Prejudice, Preventers (Gundam Wing), Violence, Yaoi, kinda enemies to lovers, romance - gundam pilot style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 04:01:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 65,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13918947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist/pseuds/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kracken/pseuds/kracken
Summary: Milliardo Peacecraft is forced to take Heero and Duo on a mission against his wishes, but he finds out that Duo isn't all fun and games and Milliardo begins to develope a strange fascination for the ex-pilot of Deathscythe.





	1. I Can't Stand You

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. With Kracken's permission, I began manually importing her works to the AO3 as part of an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017.
> 
> I am keeping myself listed as an author to be able to fix any mistakes I might have made when importing. Please note that I am NOT a co-author -- this is all Kracken's brilliance.

"I told you that I have my own, hand picked, agents to assist me, Sally," Milliardo Peacecraft said as he tossed back his long, white hair, and glared at her from under his long bangs. His blue eyes were daunting, but Sally glared back and refused to bend. He sighed in exasperation and slammed two files onto her table with pique.  
  
"They are experts in infiltrating those old Oz bases," Sally pointed out, "They know them better than we do. You have two months to prepare and to learn how to work with them. You can train them how you like without any arguments from me."  
  
Milliardo narrowed his eyes, "How I like?"  
  
Sally grimaced. "Within reason, of course. I won't allow you to harm them."  
  
Milliardo's nostrils flared. Sally was not improving his mood by suggesting that he would be an irresponsible commander. "I'm a soldier, Sally, a General. They're fly-by- the-seat-of-your-pants terrorists. What do they know of rank and file and following orders?"  
  
"They've been with the Preventers for two years," Sally reminded him. "We don't tolerate insubordination or an agent making up the rules as they go along. We have procedures that must be adhered to."  
  
Milliardo nodded, but his jaw was tense and twitching. "Yuy seems to have been an exemplary agent. I met him in the war, fought against him, and learned to respect him, but Maxwell.. I don't know anything about him except that he called himself the God of Death during the war and that he was a terror to my troops. His file is thick with warnings and cases of insubordination... pranks, he called them. If adhering to procedures is so important to the Preventers, I fail to see why he is still an agent."  
  
Sally smiled. She pointed to her mouth and said, "That's why." When Milliardo lifted a white eyebrow, she explained, "He keeps the moral up with his pranks. They're harmless and they don't stop people from doing their jobs. You'll find out, quickly enough, that he's damned good at what he does. Sometimes, someone can bend the procedures and still get the job done. I stress, `bend'. Maxwell never breaks them."  
  
"He has to pass my inspection," Milliardo warned. "I won't put up with `pranks' or insubordination of any kind. I'll reject the entire mission if I don't think my men are fit to carry it out."  
  
"That's a given," Sally replied with a sharp nod, but then she smiled at the proper, at attention, Milliardo Peacecraft in his perfectly pressed uniform coat of blue, gold, and silver. "You'll find, though, that both Yuy and Maxwell are absolutely perfect for the mission. I wouldn't have chosen them if they weren't."  
  
"That will be my judgment call," Milliardo snapped and then, more carefully, eyes on the two files, "Those two... they stayed together after the war. They have the same address on their files. What is their relationship to one another?"  
  
Sally pursed her lips, "I suppose I don't really know. They are like oil and water, those two, but they are ALWAYS together. They call each other partner, not friend. Maybe it's just a case of `old habits die hard', but if you're asking if they're lovers, I couldn't tell you. I know why you're asking. You don't want two agents who have a relationship maybe sacrificing the mission for each other, right?" When Milliardo gave a tight nod, Sally shrugged. "I think you'll have to ask them, or someone else who knows them. I will tell you that they have proven, again and again, to my satisfaction, that they WILL complete their orders despite whatever relationship they have. They don't let it effect them."  
  
Milliardo eased. One worry out of the way. He couldn't imagine someone in love Not sacrificing for their loved one. Sally's words helped him to conclude that Yuy and Maxwell were just partners. It was one less trouble, but the thick file that was Duo Maxwell's didn't bode well. He rubbed between his eyes, a stress headache beginning. "Where can I find them?"  
  
Sally glanced at the clock on her wall, "Hard to tell, but it is lunch hour. They do like to work out in the gym at this time when they aren't on assignments. I can have them sent to where ever you would like to speak to them."  
  
Milliardo picked up the two files again and tucked them under his arm. "I'll take care of that. They are my concern now."  
  
Sally smiled in relief. "Good. I'm glad that you'll at least give them a chance."  
  
"One chance," Milliardo told her icily. "That's all they would have gotten during the war."   
  
"On the Oz side, maybe," Sally muttered as she watched Milliardo leave.  
  
Milliardo strode down the halls, eyes looking angrily at his own inner thoughts as his long legs took him towards the gym. Men and women stepped quickly aside, not only wary of the `Lightning Count' by reputation, but also because he was a striking figure amid the Preventer personnel. His flashing coat, and rippling pale hair, made him a bolt of light in a sea of drab olive and khaki uniforms.  
  
Milliardo had been in the military for as long as he could remember. He had not spent long in the lower ranks, his star rising quickly with Triez's tutelage. He was used to being in command and used to making most of the decisions. Now that he had been placed in a special ops position, he chafed constantly under the orders of people who had never even been in the war and who knew everything about tactics, but nothing about the dynamics of the men and women who were supposed to implement their plans. His rank, his experience, and the fact that even with Relena in control of the Sank Kingdom, he was still a prince of a well respected family, allowed him to argue and call most of the shots where his superiors were concerned. This mission, though, was unusual, so too was Sally Po's instance on ignoring Milliardo's express wishes and saddling him with two live cannons once known as Gundam Pilots.  
  
The clanking and whir of exercise machines and weights alerted Milliardo that he was closing in on his targets. Gripping the two files hard in unconscious irritation, he stepped into the very large, open room of the gym. Men and women were sweating and straining in every direction. Milliardo scowled impatiently. He motioned to an attendant and the man nervously approached, wiping his chalked hands on a rag.  
  
"Maxwell and Yuy," Milliardo asked, "Where are they?"  
  
"Over there, sir," the man said, his voice almost cracking with his nerves. He cleared his throat in embarrassment as he motioned to a far corner of the room, a corner not occupied by anyone except two young men standing close together and talking.  
  
Milliardo only nodded in acknowledgement and strode through the exercising throng, not caring as people stopped to stare and wonder what the usually standoffish Prince was doing among them.  
  
Milliardo stopped a few yards from his goal and simply watched the two men for a few moments, knowing that he would have more success in evaluating their personalities when they were unaware of him. He noted the familiar, serious face of Heero Yuy, head bent as he listened to what the other man was saying. He had grown, shoulders wide and rounded, but body still long and lanky with well developed muscles. His hair was still a dark, rough-cut, and it hung in his pale face as his blue, intense eyes glared at the man next to him. Milliardo was startled, thinking that Yuy was still wearing his green tank top and black spandex shorts from the war, but then Milliardo saw that it was a one piece, skin tight, body suit that was black with an olive green v design at the top.  
  
Duo Maxwell was a startling contrast to his `partner'. There were several photos of him in his file, but they were static and old, not a proper depiction of the live version in front of Milliardo. This man was constantly in motion, hands moving, body turning this way and that, face a study in a hundred different expression, most of them lively smiles, grins, and open mouthed laughs. His eyes were large, like a child's, and they were sparkling and crinkling at the corners as he grinned. They were also the most unusual shade of amethyst Milliardo had ever seen. Dressed in an overlarge, white shirt that hung off of one bare shoulder, the slogan, `Life's a bitch and then my Gundam steps on you.' emblazoned in red across the front, and a pair of black shorts that almost looked like boxers, Maxwell still looked fifteen. He was much shorter than Yuy and all wiry arms and legs. His hair was a deep chestnut and a thick braid swung with his motions in a very long tail down his back. Milliardo remembered an old story about an irreverent boy who refused to grow up. Peter Pan was the name, he recalled. Maxwell embodied that character.  
  
"Heero, I told you, it doesn't matter that mice don't talk, it's what the mouse is saying that's funny!"  
  
"It's not that, " Heero said as if he were contemplating what Maxwell was saying with the same seriousness he would have given to atomic theory. "I can accept that the mouse IS speaking, and that the dog can have a dog for a pet, but..."  
  
"But?" Duo prompted.  
  
"It's just not funny," Yuy told him with a wince.  
  
Duo gaped and then he giggled. Milliardo blinked. For a moment, Duo looked like some mischievous elf with his large cheeks and wide grin, and then he was putting on a hurt expression that was patently exaggerated for effect. "Are you saying that my joke isn't funny, Yuy?"  
  
"No, " Heero replied calmly as he turned to adjust an exercise machine, "I'm saying Randell's joke isn't funny. He's the one who first told it early this morning."  
  
"Hm," Duo replied, stifling another laugh and trying to continue his 'hurt' act.   
  
"Tell your own jokes, Duo," Heero advised him.  
  
Duo raised eyebrows, startled, "Are you saying MINE are funnier?"  
  
Heero paused as if considering and then he replied, "They are less annoying."  
  
Milliardo chose that moment to walk up and announce his presence. "Gentleman."  
  
It was interesting, Milliardo noticed, that the diminutive Maxwell stepped almost protectively in front of Yuy and then blinked and grinned at Milliardo as he easily recognized the Lightning Count, his superior. "Sir," he said cheerily.  
  
Yuy came almost to attention, looking grim and respectful. "Sir," he echoed. "Do you need assistance?"  
  
Milliardo paused and looked them both over slowly. It was a test that he often used to gauge how nervous a man was. Heero stared back steadily, unaffected, simply waiting for an order, but Duo fidgeted and grinned wider.  
  
"Forget what you were going to say, sir?" Duo wondered impishly. "Happens all the time to me."  
  
Milliardo scowled, choosing to ignore the remark. "I want you at Medina barracks at six a.m. tomorrow morning," he ordered sharply.  
  
Duo blinked. "Both of us?" he wondered.  
  
Milliardo narrowed his ice blue eyes. "Would there be a problem if I was speaking only to you?"  
  
Duo made a face, one that was perplexed and curious at the same time. He scratched his head with one hand and then said, "Well, no, sir, but usually we are paired together for assignments. That's why I'm asking. If you don't want us together, then which one of us do you want? It wouldn't do for just me to show up if you just wanted, Heero, or for Heero to show up, if you just wanted me, or for us to get really confused and have no one show up-"  
  
"Both of you!" Milliardo snapped, cutting Duo off irritably.  
  
Duo smiled. "Okay, we'll be there, sir, bright and early."  
  
"We will be there on time," Heero promised, "What will be our objective? Is there a list of preparations and equipment?"  
  
"Yeah, some info would be good," Duo agreed. "Will we need black stretch suits and repelling equipment for night ops or bunny slippers and jammies for a sleep over?"  
  
"It will be morning," Heero reminded Duo, deadpan, and Milliardo couldn't tell if Heero was joining in Duo's insubordinate behavior or completely serious.  
  
"Oh, yeah! That's right!" Duo chuckled. "Silly me."  
  
Milliardo stared, thinking that silence on his part would warn Duo that he wasn't amused and that he was about to be in trouble. Duo didn't take the hint. He continued to smile, though Milliardo could see some very small signs of nervousness.  
  
"You won't need anything but training suits," Milliardo replied. "We have several weeks until the operation. I want to know all of your strengths and weaknesses before that time." He gave Duo a hard look. "I will be judging whether you are fit for the operation. I have been given complete authority in that area."  
  
"Wow!" Duo exclaimed cheerfully. "Go you! Sally usually isn't that kind of an accommodating commander. She must like you."  
  
"She respects me and my opinion," Milliardo corrected Duo harshly and then decided that Duo wasn't going to respond to anything except bluntness. "According to your file, Maxwell, you are a bit of a prankster; a clown, to be exact. I won't tolerate that. This will be your only warning. If you use any of the tone, and lack of respect, that I have seen here in the last few minutes, I will not only dismiss you from the operation, but I will put a mark in your file and suggest that you be dismissed."  
  
Duo's eyes went wide as if he were shocked, but there was a twinkle of laughter in his eyes as well, as if he doubted the ability of Milliardo to carry out that threat. That caused Milliardo to seethe inwardly, but he kept it under control. There would be time enough to discipline Maxwell, he thought as he said, "I will see the two of you tomorrow morning. Be prepared for hard training."  
  
Milliardo turned on his heel, the interview over, and began walking back through the gym.  
  
Duo's voice floated after him, "Do I get breakfast?"  
  
Milliardo paused almost misstep, stiffened angrily, and then decided that he didn't trust himself to answer with restraint. He continued walking.  
  
"Guess not," Duo sighed. "We'll have to grab a bite in the morning, Heero. What should we have?"  
  
"Something high in protein," Heero replied.  
  
"Eggs and bacon?" Duo wondered hopefully.   
  
"Hn." Whatever that meant, Duo seemed to take it as an affirmative from Heero. As Milliardo reached the exit door of the gym, he heard Duo babbling on excitedly about eggs and bacon.  
  
I will not have someone like that on my team, Milliardo thought angrily. Duo was as good as gone. He would allow Duo a first day with his own handpicked men, for appearance sake, and then he would inform Sally Po that he was definitely unsuitable. Satisfied with that decision, Milliardo looked back. Heero was speaking to Duo in a low tone, but Duo, surprisingly, was watching Milliardo leave. When he caught the man's eye, Duo waved cheerily. With a growl of irritation, Milliardo's grip tightened hard on the two files still tucked under his arm and he stalked away.  
  
Once back in his office, Milliardo sat down heavily behind his wide desk and slapped Duo's file down in front of him. He opened it and scanned, once again, the reams of complaints about his mischief. Underneath, were his mission reports, all done in a very slangy, unrefined language and written in a sloppy handwriting style that was almost illegible. Flowers, a swarm of bees,Gundams, various caricatures of people, some sort of parts diagram, a note to meet someone at a dance club, and various stains from food and coffee, littered the margins.  
  
Heero's file was a sharp contrast. it was slim and neat, no complaints, no marks against him, and his mission reports were typed and read with a painful exactitude. There was a bland photo of the almost sullen looking Preventer agent. Milliardo stared at it, recalling their battles and their rivalry during the war. He had learned to respect Heero the hard way.  
  
Duo's photo was strange. He wasn't smiling. He looked lost and worried, as if someone had taken the photo of him unawares. He seemed to be looking off to the right at someone. Looking at the photo, Milliardo found himself intrigued. It was almost like a mystery and he felt compelled to solve it. Who was this man? He didn't seem to bear any relation to the young man Milliardo had just met in the gym. This person... Milliardo touched the photo with a long finger and traced the outline of the face. The eyes... they looked haunted; purple wells with a tightness around them. Milliardo looked closer, trying to see everything possible in the small photo.  
  
The photo was too small, too vague, too full of answers to a single question, answers that Milliardo didn't know were true or false. The question was simple, why was he, Milliardo Peacecraft, attracted to that particular image of Duo Maxwell? He didn't want to admit how many times, since receiving the file, he had taken out that photo and looked at it. He had read through the pages in the file many times and had tried to reconcile that photo with the profile of a irreverent prankster. The two hadn't matched. Seeing Duo in person, finding out that the file was far more accurate than the photo, had caused something inside of Milliardo to feel more than simple disappointment. That too, he didn't want to admit.  
  
Milliardo put the photo back and purposeful closed the file. He put Heero's file on top and pressed it down, as if that could stop his odd compulsion to look at the photo. It didn't.  
  
"What the hell, Milliardo," he said out loud to himself, "he's just unusual in every way and you've been bored and alone with your thoughts too much lately."  
  
Milliardo stood up and left his office again, leaving the files behind and hating how it took an effort of will to leave that photo, the mystery, and those thoughts behind to concentrate on the task at hand, a task that could costs men's lives if he allowed himself to be distracted now by a pair of purple eyes.


	2. April Fool's Day

"He could have MEANT to tell us to wait inside the barracks," Duo suggested.  
  
"He didn't say that," Heero argued. "Don't interpret orders."  
  
"Heero, I'm not interpreting... I just think that you should consider the possibility that Zechs failed to mention that we were supposed to wait inside, not out in the freezing morning air with ice water fog soaking through our clothes."  
  
"He is Milliardo Peacecraft, Duo, or sir. Don't let him hear you call him Zechs," Heero warned. "And I still say that, if he had wanted us to be inside the barracks, he would have ordered it. I'm staying out here."  
  
"Fine, fine!" Duo grumbled.  
  
Milliardo could hear them bickering as he rounded a corner of the barracks and found them huddled against one wall under a light. They were alert to his presence, hands under their jackets, ready to pull guns from holsters, and wary eyes on his approaching shadow in the fog.  
  
"I could have shot you before you gained a visual, " Milliardo growled.  
  
"We're supposed to shoot at anyone we hear?" Duo asked with raised brows. "During the war, that was fine, but I don't think it's legal now. Besides, we WERE expecting you."  
  
"I could have been someone else," Heero agreed with Milliardo.  
  
Duo looked annoyed and rolled eyes at Heero. "I'm not going to live my life as a complete paranoid, Heero. I think the odds are in my favor that there isn't going to be someone sneaking up on me and playing sniper."  
  
"We do have enemies," Heero replied, but then surprised Milliardo by relaxing his stiff stance and conceding, "It is peacetime, though, and I don't want to expect an enemy behind every noise either. This is Preventer barracks, not a dangerous assignment location."  
  
"You got it, Heero!" Duo chuckled as if he were talking to a child that had finally learned a difficult lesson.   
  
Milliardo uncomfortably found himself agreeing with Duo as well and that didn't help his mood. He forgot that they weren't still in the war sometimes, especially in tense or uncertain situations. He had gone through courses to unlearn some of his soldier reflexes. A person couldn't shoot at every noise and one of the benefits of being at peace was that a person didn't always have to be suspicious and alert when they were in 'safe' territory.  
  
"Come with me," Milliardo ordered sharply, trying to bring himself to order and gain control of the situation again. Duo, he decided, had a definite talent for dominating and directing situations. Milliardo could have said those were leadership qualities, but, as he glanced back and saw Duo grinning at Heero and then at himself as if he were a vacuous idiot, he couldn't bring himself to concede that to the young man.  
  
"Aw, man!" Duo exclaimed when the fog lifted a bit and they could see a group of men huddled together and waiting by an obstacle course.  
  
Milliardo turned with a hard frown. "Is there a problem, agent?"  
  
Duo sighed. "I was hoping for an interview in a warm place. You don't have to run me ragged in the wet and cold. Just say you don't want me and I'll go home."  
  
Milliardo couldn't help blinking stupidly.   
  
Duo grinned. "Come on, Commander Peacecraft! You know you made up your mind that you don't want me when we were in the gym. This is just for show so that it looks neat and tidy on the paperwork you intend to give to Po."  
  
"Don't presume to know what I'm thinking, agent Maxwell," Milliardo bit out icily.  
  
Duo narrowed eyes at him critically, not fooled one bit, but then he looked impish and said, "I'll follow any order you give, sir, and I'll ace any physical test that you give me. Don't let my size fool you. I just thought, if you had already made up your mind, I should save you the trouble. You won't be able to put this down as the reason that you rejected me."  
  
Milliardo didn't answer the charge. He replied simply, "Let's see if your bragging meets with reality, Maxwell."  
  
There were several pits, barriers, and locked gates between the men and a squat, dull gray building just visible in the lifting fog. Heero and Duo exchanged looks and Duo grinned while Heero only looked thoughtful.   
  
"An infiltrate and retrieve course," Duo said happily. "My favorite."  
  
"I designed it myself, " Milliardo warned. "It won't be easy."  
  
Milliardo didn't like the smug look on Duo's face. In his experience, a man who was TOO confident in his abilities, often made mistakes that caused themselves and their team mates to lose their lives.  
  
"Danzin!" Milliardo called and a tall, middle aged man came towards them with a frown, looking Heero and Duo over. "Give the computer to Maxwell."  
  
Danzin had the slim machine tucked safely under one arm. He started and frowned even more, but he didn't question. "Thanks," Duo said as he took it and tucked it under his own arm, "and no, nursery school hasn't let out early," Duo chuckled, reading the man's mind. The man blinked and grunted.   
  
Milliardo set his watch timer as they joined the others. "I remind you that this is a team," Milliardo said sternly. "We are here to act as one and complete the mission, not win a contest."  
  
"Sure thing, sir," Duo replied brightly when the others only nodded.  
  
Milliardo gave him a hard look. Duo grinned back. "Go," Milliardo said without warning.  
  
Duo's only reaction was a twitch and then he was in motion. He whipped open the computer lid and began typing furiously. He closed it again quickly. He couldn't have obtained the codes that quickly, Milliardo fumed. He was going to guess and hot dog his way through the course. Milliardo almost put a stop to things then and there, but Duo was in motion again.  
  
"You and you!" He jabbed a finger at two men. "Watch our backs." He pointed to a third man. "You take point." The last, he grabbed by the arm and pulled close. "Stick to us like glue and keep your eyes peeled while Heero and me work on the locks."  
  
The men hesitated, looking at each other, but, as Duo snapped, "Move out everyone!", they all realized exactly what Milliardo had, that Duo had chosen the right men for the right positions with Heero and himself at the protected center. They were the experts and therefore more valuable.  
  
Milliardo watched the men move out onto the course. He watched for mistakes. There should have been many. They had never worked before together. They didn't even know each other's names, yet Duo seemed to take charge naturally and give commands, verbally and by hand signs, without any trouble. The joker was still there, but there was an edge to his grin, a wildness that spoke of blood, battle, and experience. The men followed his orders, much to Milliardo's bewilderment. His own, hand picked, captain was bending to listen to Duo and nodding obediently as they reached the first barrier.  
  
Heero came into play then. He did the physical work of getting through the barrier while Duo did the codes. They worked in perfect tandem, as if it were an orchestrated dance, and then the men were going through and taking up defensive positions on the opposite side.  
  
They moved quickly, smoothly, passing each obstacle like ghosts in the fog, Milliardo moving along with them to watch them work. Duo's slight stature was a problem, but Milliardo's captain and Heero were both there to pull and boost and get Duo to the next lock.  
  
"Let's see how you deal with this one," Milliardo smirked, sure that Duo would falter at last. He had purposely entered the wrong codes for the gray building.  
  
Duo entered the codes. They didn't fail and the door opened. Milliardo blinked in shock. He couldn't understand what had happened. He watched as Duo handed the computer to Heero. Heero opened it and began swiftly to search. He was trying to access floor and alarm plans, Milliardo guessed. He found them with ease and started talking them into the building.  
  
Milliardo waited for the alarms to sound. He had placed them so that they couldn't be avoided. He had wanted to see how his men and the new additions reacted under stress. When the silence dragged, Milliardo became aware of his racing pulse and labored breathing. He was both angry and excited. The two opposing emotions warred with one another. The soldier in him was marveling at Duo's skill and his unexpected talent for leadership. The man in him was furious that Duo was managing despite his insubordinate behavior, a clear thumb in the eye to Milliardo's plan to prove that he wasn't worthy to be a part of the mission.   
  
The men came pouring out of the building and Milliardo couldn't understand what had happened. Again they formed up and again they moved through the obstacles. When they made it to the finish, panting and exhausted, Milliardo was already there, trying to break out of his confusion as he looked from Duo's grinning face to Heero's satisfied smile.  
  
Duo held up an info chip. "Mission completed," Duo panted.  
  
Milliardo took the info chip, using every ounce of will power not to snatch it and crush it in his fist. He waited a full minute until he trusted his voice to be professional. "Report, Maxwell."  
  
"Sir," Duo pulled himself to comical attention and gave a detailed account of their exercise.  
  
Milliardo listened, but his gaze flicked to the other men. They were relieved and pleased, looking at Duo with smiles. They liked him, Milliardo could tell. Duo and Heero had already proven themselves.   
  
When Duo stopped talking, Milliardo ignored everything he had said and asked, "How did you get the codes?"  
  
Duo winked. "Well, you gave orders to an Alexander Mikelvich to set up the course per your instructions."  
  
"Yes," Milliardo replied.  
  
"You imputed the wrong codes for the door," Duo told him, "Which I'm sure was on purpose."  
  
"Yes," Milliardo replied again, giving nothing else back.   
  
Duo shrugged as if it were obvious. "I know better than to believe open files, so I searched through Alexander's personal files and found one marked Milli c's. It was pass protected. I guessed straight away that the password was 'Al'. He had filed all the correct codes there so that he could get in an out of the building himself. " Duo laughed. "There's always a weak link, sir, in any organization."   
  
Milliardo felt his face go red with embarrassment and anger. He couldn't understand how Duo had been able to gather all of that information so quickly. "And the alarms?" he prompted, his voice like ice as he stopped himself from searching out Alexander Mikelvich and firing him on the spot.  
  
"Heero's specialty," Duo laughed. "He deactivated them all by making them short. Certain sequences always overload the systems."  
  
Brilliant, Milliardo thought. He couldn't deny it, but he certainly wasn't going to admit it. "Why did it take you so long to exit after information retrieval?"  
  
Two of the men couldn't help soft laughter. Milliardo glared at them and they tried their best to stifle it. "There was hot coffee in a thermos, left, I suppose, by our friend Al," Duo explained matter of factly. "I was cold and I needed some caffeine."   
  
Milliardo stared and then he said, "You all fail the course. You can thank Mr. Maxwell for that. Assemble in 46-c instruction room in one hour. Perhaps in that time, you can impress upon Mr. Maxwell that stopping to drink coffee can cost one of you your lives."  
  
Milliardo turned on his heel and began walking away with military precision. He heard Duo's voice call after him, "Does this mean you're keeping me? Ah, that's so nice of you, sir. You won't regret it, I promise!"  
  
"Twenty laps, all of you!" Milliardo called back without stopping, "Courtesy of Mr. Maxwell." He heard groans and a swear word. The best way to straighten a man out, Milliardo thought as his anger cooled with the satisfaction of having punished Duo properly, was to let the man's teammates do it for you.  
  
Milliardo almost tripped in mid-step as shock jolted through him. He regained his composure with an effort as he continued to walk, but what he had realized that had shocked him was the inescapable and unavoidable knowledge that he had made an unconscious decision to accept Maxwell on the mission.  
  
Milliardo went to his office, sat down, and replayed the details of the exercise in his mind, still trying to find flaws. Unfortunately, he only found them in his own men. Heero and Duo had worked flawlessly, like a well oiled machine, each knowing the other perfectly. They were a powerful force, he knew, and he would have been more than a fool to toss them aside because he didn't like the package that expertise came in. Sally had been right. When it came down to it, Duo did his job. Even the joke of stopping to drink coffee hadn't really impacted his timing. In fact, Milliardo realized, in a tense situation like that, men strung too tight could be a liability. A small joke like that one could have unwound them enough to do their job better.  
  
Milliardo didn't realize that he had snapped a pencil in half until he heard it break. He looked down at his hand, at how it was tensed on the broken bits of wood. He had always prided himself on his fighting forces. Though he had been the flamboyant Lightning Count during the war, he had always expected top notch discipline and decorum from his men. Everything that Duo was rubbed him the wrong way. His training told him that such a man could only create a disaster and cause men to die unnecessarily. Men like that he would have weeded out within an hour of their induction into the military.  
  
Duo Maxwell wasn't like other men though. He was a trained Gundam pilot and he... he had killed Milliardo's trained men by the thousands, destroyed his installations no matter how he had secured them, and had survived a war that Milliardo's own commander, the man he had trained under and had most admired, had not. Duo Maxwell liked to play the joker, but he was a force not to be underestimated or cast aside because of personality flaws. Sally had known that, Milliardo supposed, when she had ignored all guidelines and allowed Duo to join the Preventers.   
  
Milliardo pulled Duo's file over to himself across the desk and pulled out his photo. Again he was struck by the wide, lost looking, eyes and the shadow of pain in the young man's _expression. What were you doing then? What was happening that made you look like that? Where is this serious looking man? Milliardo had asked himself those questions many times and he still didn't have any answers. It was then that he noticed a very small mark at the bottom corner of the photo. Milliardo squinted at it, curious, having thought that he knew every inch of the picture by now.  
  
M.D.C. the mark read. Milliardo blinked, confused. It wasn't a Preventer file photo then. The mystery deepened.  
  
"Sir?" an aide poked his head into Milliardo's office tentatively.  
  
"Come in," Milliardo grunted, embarrassed. He tossed the photo down on top of Duo's file with faked nonchalance.  
  
"The specs you asked for, sir." The man handed Milliardo a computer pad.  
  
Milliardo took it and looked it over briefly to make sure that he had been given the correct ones. Left to wait, the young aide studied his commander with some amount of awe and then, not sure his staring was acceptable, he switched to looking at the commander's desk. When Milliardo looked up at last, he found the young man staring at Duo's picture with obvious curiosity.  
  
"Do you know him?" Milliardo asked, seeing sudden surprise on the aide's face.  
  
"No, sir, but... " The young man stopped talking, not sure how much was proper for him to say.  
  
"Well?" Milliardo prompted as he put the pad aside.  
  
The aide licked nervous lips and then said, "I'm just surprised that the Preventers would allow someone from the Muraka Detention Center on the force."   
  
Milliardo raised a pale eyebrow and something inside of him clenched. "I didn't know that was the case. It's not in his records. How do you know anything about it?"  
  
The aide fished in his back pocket and produced a wallet. He opened it and then paused as shame caught up with his eagerness to please Milliardo. "Well, sir," he said uncertainly, "Some men found it hard to give up the war. My-My older brother was one of them. He... well, Muraka is for dissidents and soldiers with... well, who can't stop committing acts of violence against their former enemies."  
  
Milliardo frowned at the photo the aide produced. It was a heavy set older man who looked very angry and disheveled, as if he had fought to not have his photo taken. At the bottom of the photo, in one corner, was the mark, M.D.C. Milliardo automatically looked down at Duo's photo as if he hoped that the two marks were not the same.  
  
"Thank you for the information," Milliardo said, fished his memory for the man's name, and then added, "Agent Pertil. You're dismissed."  
  
The man fairly beamed to be remembered by someone like Milliardo. "Sir." He snapped a smart salute and then left the office, still smiling.  
  
Milliardo turned to his vid phone. Sally knew. There wasn't any question about it. He was going to demand an explanation at once.  
  
"Hey... sir?" Duo leaned into the office. His braid swung like a pendulum, his wild bangs were matted with sweat, and his impish face looked tired, but still full of good humor. He was also naked to the waist, his exercise suit unzipped and folded down to his hips. He was all tight muscle and as lean as a greyhound. Pale, creamy skin was beaded with sweat. Pink nipples were erect in the cool air. He had a very elegant, long neck Milliardo noticed, before his eyes took the long plunge downwards to Duo's small belly button and the line of his pants that just rode his hipbones and covered his crotch. It looked as if one inhaled breath would send the rest of the suit tumbling down around his ankles. Peeking out from that crotch was a tattoo. Milliardo blinked. It was of a dancing Hindu god.   
  
"Sorry," Duo said, noticing Milliardo's reddening face and mistaking it for anger. "We almost died out there at the end. We all are pretty sweated. I came to ask if we could hit the showers and change before we go to the instruction room." When Milliardo's eyes didn't raise, Duo looked down his own body. "Oh, the tattoo. You like? One of my friends, Dacia, has one too. It's Dancing Shiva." He grinned. "I nicknamed myself God of Death during the war so I thought Shiva would be a great tattoo. Do you know the legend? Shiva was dancing and it was destroying the world. The people begged him to stop. He did, but the legend says that when he begins to dance again the world will be destroyed. He's a fertility god, but he's also kind of the god of death and destruction too. Pretty, isn't it? You can't see it, but he's stomping on a demon. Dacia has a lot of great tattoos like that. She wanted me to get a nose ring like hers too, but... I don't think I could carry it off, do you? Maybe a nipple ring..."  
  
"Maxwell!" Milliardo snapped, furious.  
  
Duo started, but he was grinning. "Sir?"  
  
Milliardo counted to three, took a steadying breath, and then didn't give Duo the explosive, angry, reaction Milliardo was sure now that Duo wanted. Instead, he said tightly, "I give my permission for the men to shower and change. Now, get out!"  
  
"Yes, sir, thank you sir!" Duo chuckled and then he was gone.  
  
Milliardo stared after him, the image of Duo's lithe body burned into his mind so deeply that it was almost as if he were still standing in the doorway. Milliardo admitted to himself at last what was so fascinating about Duo Maxwell. Milliardo ran a rough hand over his face. He was sexually attracted to the man. His body's needy response under the desk was enough to blow away all pretense.  
  
"This cannot be happening," Milliardo groaned as he slumped in his chair. He had immersed himself in the war and his work and his few sexual encounters had been brief and with only a few trusted friends. His dalliance with Noin was best known to other people, but his more secret trysts with Treize and a few officers in the military, had been carefully hidden. Attachments in the military could easily distract a man and cause charges of favoritism to surface. Milliardo had avoided that rigorously. None of his encounters had ever been more than that, anyway, mutual sexual relief quickly forgotten afterwards.   
  
Milliardo didn't have any intention of giving in to his desire for Maxwell. He was too much of a professional. It helped that he couldn't, personally, stand the man. Milliardo wrapped that around himself as a protection, dredging up a dozen irritating, unprofessional, and insubordinate things that Duo had said and done since meeting him. It cooled Milliardo's desire like a splash of cold water. He wasn't in any danger of compromising himself with someone like that.  
  
Milliardo took up Duo's photo and stared at it. Those lost eyes, that sensitive, open _expression, and that serious, determined mouth... Milliardo shoved the photo into Duo's file, closed it, and slammed a hand down flat on the top. It was that man, the one in the photo, that Milliardo was most in danger from.


	3. My Enemy, My Friend

Duo Maxwell was a genius. Milliardo stared at the man's paperwork. It was written in a crazy scrawl, erased, crossed out, smudged, and with doodles in the margins, but every question was correctly answered.   
  
Milliardo rubbed at his chin and sighed long and loudly as he put the paperwork aside. He stared at the empty desk in front of him for some time before a feminine cough startled him into looking up. Ice blue eyes narrowed at Sally Po.   
  
"You can see why we keep him on the force, can't you?" She asked with a barely concealed air of satisfaction. "He's trouble with a capitol T, but he knows his stuff."  
  
"That's apparent," Milliardo replied in an irritated tone, "but he's still a wild card until I see him in an actual combat assignment. Before that happens, I want to make absolutely certain that his penchant for being a clown doesn't get an agent killed. I need to know that I can trust him to be a professional when it counts. He hasn't shown me that so far."  
  
"So you aren't rejecting him yet?" Sally asked crossing arms over her breast and looking at Milliardo seriously.  
  
"No, I'd be a fool to ignore his abilities. They are impressive," Milliardo conceded. "But that's not why I asked you here."  
  
"Oh?" Sally raised an eyebrow. She hadn't liked being summoned to Milliardo's office. He sometimes forgot that he wasn't a general and second only to Treize. "Is there another problem?"  
  
Milliardo handed the photo of Duo to Sally. "I don't like mysteries where my men are concerned. I want to know why Maxwell was in a facility like that one."  
  
Milliardo hadn't named it, wanting to see whether Sally knew what he was talking about. She did. She looked down at the photo and frowned. "He was attacked by Oz soldiers," Sally explained. "The details are sealed because of his age, but I do know that the attack was brutal. He fought back and there were some deaths. At the time, the government was over zealous in incarcerating people who weren't willing to embrace peace. It didn't matter who was attacked or who the attackers were. All of them were sent to the facility."   
  
"And Yuy?" Milliardo wondered, trying to imagine someone as young as Duo being incarcerated with bitter, violent soldiers. His expression in the photo was becoming understandable.  
  
"Yuy wasn't in trouble, but he refused to leave Duo's side," Sally explained. "They tried to separate them; drug Heero, put Duo in lock up, put Heero in lock up, but, no matter what they did, the two would manage to get back together. Duo was incarcerated for six months and Yuy managed to stay with him for most of that time." She handed the photo back to Milliardo. "I had been keeping my eye on them. I hadn't needed Quatre Winner throwing his weight and money around to get them released. I took it on my self to offer them jobs and assistance in becoming good citizens. It wasn't easy convincing the government, but I did it. It's worked out well. They are the best at what they do."  
  
Milliardo saw the two in his mind's eye, just as they had been on the course; living in the violent detention center back to back, guarding each other, working in tandem to keep themselves safe. "Where was Yuy when Duo was attacked?"  
  
Sally looked uncomfortable, "With Relena, your sister. He felt bound to protect her and he became her guard. She wouldn't allow Duo to join him, so he was on guard detail when Duo was attacked. I don't think he ever forgave himself, or your sister, for not being there to protect Duo. He left her service shortly after."  
  
"They must be lovers." Milliardo whispered, wishing that he could keep his first impression that they weren't, but knowing that there wasn't any other way to explain their devotion to one another. Milliardo felt a pain in his heart and he unconsciously rubbed the spot.  
  
Sally didn't look convinced. "I've never seen them kiss, hold hands, or even stand too close to one another. " She looked thoughtful. "It's more like a big brother looking after a little brother."  
  
"Yuy feels responsible for Maxwell?" Milliardo asked, puzzled, "Why? Does he feel that Maxwell can't handle things by himself?"  
  
Sally quirked a smile. "More like Duo's the big brother, actually. He looks after Heero as if Heero couldn't tie his own shoe laces without him. Heero is a very honorable, dutiful, exact, and skilled young man, but he lacks the spark that tells a man to relax, that there's something else besides duty and work, and that he should have a life and live it. I often wonder, if he didn't have Duo, if Heero would find a corner and stand there like a deactivated machine, until someone needed him for a task. Heero is very attached to Duo and it isn't in a needy way. They have a bond that I don't think I can explain with just a sexual relationship."  
  
Milliardo stifled a sigh of impatience. He didn't want Sally's spin on things. He wanted a black and white answer, either or, yes or no. Were Heero and Duo lovers? Most likely from the data Milliardo had on them so far, and devoted lovers as well. Again Milliardo felt that pain in his heart and again he rubbed at it.  
  
"Than you Commander Po," Milliardo said as he picked up the photo. "You've answered some very important questions and given me the insight that I need to make good decisions where the assignment is concerned."  
  
"Glad that I could help," Sally replied and she began to leave. She paused at the door and looked back at the long haired Peacecraft prince. He was staring at the photo of Duo and one finger had risen to touch the image of the ex pilot of Deathscythe. Sally was startled and then she smiled knowingly. _You got it bad, Zechs. Too bad for you_ , she thought sadly and wasn't surprised that Milliardo didn't notice her departure.  
  
After a long while, Milliardo left his office for the day and made his way to the officer's gym, feeling depressed and irritable. He tried to brush those feelings aside and tell himself that there wasn't any reason to feel those things. He needed to treat his bizarre infatuation with Maxwell as a product of boredom and dissatisfaction with his current position. Milliardo WAS bored, he had to admit, and frustrated with the levels of bureaucracy he had to deal with. Maxwell was a diversion, nothing more than that, something for his mind to grab onto and distract himself with.   
  
Milliardo removed his uniform in the locker room. He slipped into a pair of black spandex and a red tank top and then bound back his hair in a long, white pony tail. After putting on climbing shoes, and clipping his cell phone onto the back of his pants, Milliardo went out into the deserted exercise room and stood before the climbing wall. It was late, half of the lights were out, and all the instructors were gone. Alone, and knowing all the rules against exercising alone, Milliardo began to climb. He should have at least put on a anti grav belt just in case, but that would have negated the purpose of the climb.  
  
It was an adrenalin rush, a bit of the old danger that he missed so much from the war, and a space of time where he could concentrate on just staying on that hard wall and living from moment to moment. He didn't have to think about his men, his job, his duty, and the endless paperwork and decisions. He just needed to climb and feel where the next handhold was.  
  
Milliardo decided to ignore two small ledges where he could have rested, pushing himself despite his trembling leg muscles and his labored breathing. He imagined himself on an Oz mission, in danger of discovery, his life forfeit if that happened. His goal was the top and he envisioned an insurgent camp and a spy mission to accomplish. Milliardo felt a rush of excitement.   
  
Disaster struck without warning. Milliardo thought that his footing was secure as he reached up for a handhold. He was sweating heavily from exertion and unknown to him, he had left some of that sweat on his foothold. As he put weight on it, he felt his foot slide. Still reaching for his handhold, Milliardo swung sharply sideways and desperately tried to hold on with his one secure hand as his other foot left the wall. His size had always worked against him when he had climbed. It had kept him from utilizing all the holds and from using the limber moves the sport required. That handicap worked against Milliardo in the worst way at that moment. His own body's size and momentum peeled him off the wall and Milliardo's one hand didn't have the strength to hold him as his shoulder twisted painfully and his side scraped itself raw on the rough surface of the wall.  
  
Milliardo fell and there was nothing he could do about it. Several things ran through his mind, all of them regrets, before his body slammed into something hard and the world dimmed.   
  
"Hey, uhm, Mill... uhm, sir?"  
  
Milliardo opened his eyes to bright light and searing pain in his ribs, right arm, and right leg. A face was hovering very close. Milliardo blinked in confusion. Two eyes peered down at him, overly large like a child's, and an amazing shade of purple.  
  
"D-Duo...? Maxwell?" Milliardo mumbled in confusion. "What...?"  
  
"Rule number one," Duo said seriously, "never exercise alone, especially when you're climbing a concrete wall without any ropes." He grinned suddenly. "Don't worry, I won't squeal on you. I never follow that rule either."  
  
Milliardo remembered then. He tried to sit up, but a surprisingly strong hand held him down. "I don't think so," Duo told him. "You need to hold still until the medics get here. You're balanced on a little ledge. Good thing for you that they made this like a natural rock and not straight up and down like most climbs. Still, why you didn't fall off... well, you're one hell of a lucky man... sir."   
  
"Ledge," Milliardo echoed in confusion and then understood. The ledge had broken his fall and saved him from a possibly fatal plunge to the floor of the gym. He shivered, remembering how narrow those ledges were, meant to be obstacles to climb over and not actual platforms wide enough for bodies. He focused on Duo again. He felt calloused fingers brush his pale hair from his face. Duo looked worried. "How bad is it?" Milliardo wondered, his voice rough.  
  
"Don't know," Duo replied truthfully. "You're talking and moving, so you can't be too bad. Scrapes, mostly, maybe, and a hit on the head for sure."  
  
Milliardo frowned, the pain radiating throughout his body making him doubt Duo's assessment. A mystery was presenting itself to him and he ignored his body and forced his mind to focus enough to ask, "How did you... What are you doing here? How did you know?"  
  
Duo waved Milliardo's cell phone where he could see it. "You have all of us on your cell phone dialer so that you can talk to us in the field, I suppose," Duo replied. "You landed on my number when you fell. It kept dialing it. I was pretty pissed. I was in the middle of things, if you know what I mean? I had the number traced, intending to smash who ever it was's face, and found out it was you. Didn't take long after that to check the satellite and pinpoint your location."  
  
"In the middle of things?" Milliardo wondered and then swore at himself. His aching head attested to a possible concussion. It was disorienting him, making it hard to keep his thoughts to himself.  
  
Duo winked broadly and his grin turned impish. "I think that's my business, sir. If you want a play by play of my personal life then you have to put yourself in the game."  
  
Milliardo wasn't slow witted, but again, he said what he was thinking and he hated himself and the weakness that caused him to shoot back bitterly, "Play the game? Hasn't Yuy already won it?"  
  
Duo frowned sharply, but the frown wasn't directed at Milliardo. Duo's eyes were turned inward, as if he were considering some unpleasant thought, and then he was grinning again and saying cheerily, "This game's never over, Milli. Never."   
  
"They're here!" Yuy's voice called distantly.  
  
Duo patted Milliardo's good shoulder. "Remember, sir, we were climbing together and you fell, okay? That's our story. I'd tell them, but..."  
  
"But?" Milliardo wondered, not understanding.  
  
Duo looked sheepish. "I don't lie," he replied.  
  
Milliardo considered that statement and the man hovering over him, braced precariously and looking as if he were about to fall as he leaned out, keeping hold of the wall, and urged someone below to hurry.   
  
"He looks kind of pale, guys, and his head's bleeding!" Duo called. "He's talking to me like he likes me too, so he's must have had his brains scrambled. He probably has a concussion!"  
  
Duo's braid swung as he moved and brushed across Milliardo's face. He had a moment to smell a scent; Sandalwood? Cinnamon-musk? Vanilla mixed with... then the braid was swinging away as Duo leaned down and squinted at Milliardo's eyes.   
  
"Both of them look like they're dilating," Duo muttered. "Damned this light! I can't hardly see anything."  
  
Duo looked very worried. Milliardo wondered why. Didn't they dislike each other? Weren't they well on their way to even being enemies? Duo should have been glad that Milliardo had taken the fall. Someone else would have to take over the mission now, someone who might laugh at Duo's jokes and tolerate his insubordinate behavior.  
  
"Don't move!" Duo warned, but Milliardo wasn't aware that he had tried to move. He felt a hand grip him hard to hold him in place. That grip was firm and reassuring.  
  
"Someone call for a cab?" A new voice quipped and Milliardo felt hands at his waist.  
  
"Anti grav stretcher?" Duo sounded unsure. "That's a long way down, guys."  
  
"Maxwell! You've been at our tender mercies enough times to know that WE know what we're doing. Stop hovering and get yourself down. We'll take care of the Handsome Prince."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Duo growled.   
  
"Well, Rapunzel," Another voice joked. "If you're going to let down your hair for a prince, try to do it with ropes next time, just in case."  
  
Duo shot back. "He's my commanding officer, guys! Can it!"  
  
"Care to explain what you were doing here after hours, then?" The second man asked.  
  
There was a long silence. Duo wasn't going to lie, just as he had said, Milliardo realized. As Milliardo felt himself lifted, presumably to be put on the stretcher, the world began to blur and darken. Milliardo knew that he was on the edge of unconsciousness. He owed Duo, he thought dimly. All he could do at that moment was to save the man some embarrassment.  
  
"I-I was teaching him... teaching Maxwell some climbing techniques... for our next... assignment," Milliardo managed.  
  
Milliardo wondered if anyone had heard him and then the first medic replied, suddenly formal, "Yes, sir." Milliardo knew then that they hadn't known that he was awake and aware of what they were saying.  
  
As Milliardo slipped into unconsciousness, he felt Duo's hand squeeze his arm in thanks. That touch warmed a place deep inside Milliardo. "Don't worry about a thing," Duo said almost in his ear and, as if the words had some power, Milliardo felt himself trusting Duo, trusting him enough to let go and fall into the arms of painless oblivion.


	4. Take Your Medicine

"Dislocated shoulder, torn ligaments, major bruising, and concussion. The rest is pretty minor for the kind of fall that you took," Sally Po said as she read off the electronic chart by Milliardo's hospital bed. "I've already given your field assignment to another group. You can rest easy about that."  
  
Milliardo frowned, "I am not HAPPY about that! This was a ridiculous accident! It shouldn't have happened! I should be having a report filed on me for incompetence."  
  
"Which is why you will have to attend a few psych evaluations," Sally replied calmly. "Don't give me that story that you were climbing with Duo. I know that you were climbing by yourself. That's suicidal."  
  
"I am an experienced climber," Milliardo bit back, but then settled deeper into his blankets, stifling a moan of pain. "It was against regulations for me to climb alone, though." He eyed her sourly. "Did you question Maxwell? He told me that he doesn't lie. That's not a good trait to cultivate in work like ours."  
  
"Duo wouldn't have let you fall," Sally replied stiffly. When Milliardo looked skeptical, she added, "He's very diligent in taking care of the people closest to him and the operatives who work with him. He would have made sure to use ropes. He would have made sure that you were secure. My report said that you were free climbing." She smiled slightly. "Duo may not lie, but he doesn't always tell the truth either. He's a master of evasion."   
  
Milliardo fiddled with his hair, suddenly uncomfortable. Someone had braided it and tied it off to keep it out of the way of the doctors and nurses. Milliardo suspected that someone was used to making his own braids. The memory of his rescue was blurred and uncertain. He remembered Duo hovering over him and words spoken. Milliardo wasn't sure that he could vouch for the accuracy of what he remembered being said. It didn't seem possible, Duo inviting him to join his 'game' and compete with Yuy. It had to have been a product of his concussion.   
  
"Whatever punishment or censure that you care to deliver, I will accept," Milliardo declared despondently. "I was most definitely in the wrong."  
  
"Well..." Sally looked at him thoughtfully. "I think you've been punished enough. It will take you awhile to heal. You very nearly fractured one leg and some ribs, so it will be painful for you to move around. Go to the psych evaluations, so the doctors can figure out why you pulled a stunt like that, and take a leave of absence."  
  
"No!" Milliardo objected strongly. "I will go to the psychiatrist, but I refuse to let my work suffer because of my stupidity."  
  
Sally blinked and then she shook her head skeptically. "I don't think that you will be able to get around on your own."  
  
"I'll manage," Milliardo snapped.  
  
Sally looked him up and down, sizing up his condition and angry that he was arguing with her orders. "I'm reconsidering filing a report."  
  
"I insist that you do file it," Milliardo replied sullenly, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable.   
  
"Milliardo Peacecraft!" Sally shouted and the man jumped, startled. "I am your commanding officer and you take orders from me, mister! Is that understood?"   
  
Milliardo glared and then he relented, shoulders slumping. "Yes, sir," he replied dejectedly.  
  
"I am assigning you an aide to assist you in carrying out your duties," Sally told him as Milliardo's blue eyes widened in confusion. "I will pick who I think is most suitable and you, sir, will not argue. Is THAT clear?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Milliardo replied in a small voice and then, relieved, "Thank you. I wish to redeem my good name and your confidence in me as quickly as possible."  
  
"Understood," Sally said and then softened. "Don't over do it, Zechs, okay?"  
  
Milliardo winced at the old Oz name he had carried when he had worn a disguise during the war. He hated hearing it. It brought back too many memories, good and bad. "Yes, sir," he replied simply and Sally nodded and began to leave. Milliardo called after her, "Do you have someone in mind already to be my aide?"   
  
"Yes, I do," Sally replied, not slowing her steps, or turning so that Milliardo could see her smile. She threw over her shoulder as she walked out of the room, "It's Duo Maxwell."  
  
+  
  
Milliardo fully expected Duo to show up with Heero in tow. When he came alone, ringing the bell of Milliardo's well appointed apartment, Milliardo hated the traitor feeling of relief. It was a feeling completely at odds with the knowledge that being saddled with Duo as his nursemaid was not going to be easy or desirable.   
  
Aching and scraped raw in many places, it hadn't been easy to roll the wheelchair to the front door. Duo had waited patiently though, expecting that, being injured, it would take Milliardo some time. The struggle to get the door open, and not tangle with the chair, had been an embarrassment.   
  
"Heya, Zechs!" Duo greeted with a grin and a twinkle in his amethyst eyes as he leaned down and helped Milliardo push back from the door again. "Ready for Duo's taxi service?"  
  
Milliardo swatted Duo's long braid aside as it dangled in his face and then jerked the wheels of the wheelchair back on his own so that Duo stumbled off balance. When the young man straightened, undaunted, Milliardo growled, "You are late!"  
  
"Traffic," Duo apologized. "I also didn't expect your place to be outside the city. I thought a guy like you would live right on Preventer base."  
  
Duo eyed the wheelchair. "I didn't think that you were that bad."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean, Agent Maxwell?" Milliardo snarled back, feeling heat flush his face. He hated being weak, hated anyone seeing him like that.   
  
Duo blinked and then looked sympathetic. "Doesn't mean anything, sir. I have to readjust things that's all. I suppose I should have known that you wouldn't be walking away from a fall like that one."  
  
Milliardo took a tight rein on his temper. Letting his temper get out of control was not a good way to begin. He tried again, taking the tone of commander; assured and in control. "My briefcase is over on that table. Get it and then we'll go."  
  
"Yes, sir," Duo replied obediently and Milliardo watched him walk jauntily over to the table. His hand closed on the handle of the briefcase, and he began to turn back, but then he paused and looked around, blinking at the rich, leather furnishings, the oriental carpets, and the expensive details of a princes's home. "Nice!" Duo said appreciatively. "Decorate yourself?"  
  
Milliardo scowled. "I don't see how that is of any of your concern."  
  
Duo shrugged, "Guess not. You just didn't look the type to bother with matching furniture and wall paper."  
  
"Are you insinuating something?" Milliardo snapped, feeling an old anger come to the fore. He had never made his sexuality a secret and he was used to certain insults. The ones who dug under his skin the most were the ones that questioned his masculinity. He hadn't expected something like that from someone who shared the same sexuality.  
  
Duo looked perplexed and then he understood. His smile was sympathetic as he explained, "You're very military oriented, sir, and you travel a lot. I expected just the basic home in the city near Headquarters. I figured that you would keep all the plush stuff for your palace in Sanq Kingdom."  
  
That was another bitter point shoved under Milliardo's skin. He bit out, "It's NOT my palace. It's Relena's. I abdicated in her favor."  
  
Duo nodded thoughtfully. "I remember something like that. Didn't seem right, putting all of that power into the hands of a girl."  
  
"She's more than a girl," Milliardo shot back and then stopped himself. Why was he arguing and explaining to someone who was only there to fetch him coffee and push his wheelchair? "You are not here for a guided tour, Maxwell. Do your job."  
  
It was Duo's turn to look annoyed, a startling, but fleeting expression seeping through the sudden cracks in his happy go lucky persona. Milliardo sharply reminded himself that he was facing, not just a young man, but a Gundam pilot trained to kill wholesale. Duo had slaughtered scores of his troops, destroyed his most secure installations, and infiltrated systems Milliardo had thought unhackable. Unseen on his person, he was certain Duo was carrying a battery of weapons, weapons that he knew how to use proficiently and would use without hesitation if the situation called for it. Duo's annoyed _expression left as quickly as it had appeared, though, and Duo easily regained his grin.   
  
"My job is to get the bad guys, Zechs," Duo said as he put the briefcase in Milliardo's lap, opened the door, and then moved behind the wheelchair in order to push it. "I don't make a very good nurse."  
  
Milliardo felt the injustice himself. Sally was making a mistake, he felt, in using Duo for such a purpose, and he had to wonder at her motivation for doing it. It didn't seem logical for her to take a skilled agent out of the field for something so mundane. Punishment wasn't a good enough of an excuse.  
  
"Sally has me on call, by the way, so you may end up with someone else from day to day, depending on whether I'm needed for a mission, or not," Duo told Milliardo, laying to rest Milliardo's disquiet as if he had read Milliardo's mind.  
  
Duo wheeled him towards his waiting car. The driver, caught looking impatiently at his watch, hurried to open the door of the car and help Milliardo move onto the seat. It was awkward and it was embarrassing, especially when Duo added with a grunt of strain, "I'll make sure my replacement has some strong biceps!"  
  
"This will only last few days at the most," Milliardo replied stiffly as Duo slid into the seat beside him and the driver closed the door. "Then you will be back to your proper duties."  
  
Duo snorted, amused. "You're a strong man, sir, but take it from someone who's been there enough times, these things take time to heal . You won't be in any marathons soon."  
  
"I do have some experience as well," Milliardo grumbled as he dug into his briefcase and pulled out papers to look over. He didn't remember that Duo's file was in the case until some papers from it slipped out. Duo snatched at them as they fell towards the floor of the car and then he began handing them back. He paused as he noticed his own photo.   
  
Duo fingered the photo and his face did an odd, undescribable thing. His face turned dark red and his lips tightened into an almost feral grin. Milliardo couldn't tell what emotion that expression was portraying, but he could see that it was a very strong one. It was manic, frightening even, and Milliardo felt his blood chill. Milliardo felt the need to defend himself as if he were being threatened.  
  
"Sally Po gave me your file, along with Yuy's, to see if you were qualified for my assignment," Milliardo said, trying to make his voice matter of fact. His embarrassment was deepening and he hated it. He was always in control. That he had failed to return the file to Sally showed him how off balance he was, how badly Duo had affected him. "I forgot that I had it in my briefcase. I'll have you return it to personnel today."  
  
Duo's jaw worked. He shoved the photo into the briefcase along with the papers. "Guess that particular stigma is on my permanent record. I never thought about it, I guess," Duo said and Milliardo understood that he was talking about his detention.  
  
Milliardo thought about his own past, about some of the things that he had done. At the time, he had been insane, so sure that what he had been doing had been the right thing. He kept those memories locked tight, refusing to acknowledge the terrible things that he had almost done during the war. Next to his crimes, Duo's detention seemed an insignificant thing.  
  
"We all have our dark pasts," Milliardo found himself saying and then he found something outside of the window to stare at, unable to meet Duo's gaze.  
  
"Wonder why no one blames you?" Duo replied bitterly and Milliardo inwardly cringed. They did, he thought as he sank into a deep depression, but it was his title, his reputation, and his bloodline that kept people from demanding that he pay for his attempted crime against the people of Earth.  
  
"Good thing Heero stopped you," Duo added angrily. "He almost died, you know?"  
  
"I know," Milliardo replied bleakly, but then said coldly, trying to lock it all back into it's mental box, "Let's not have this conversation. I have Preventer business to think about."  
  
Duo said nothing, but Milliardo could feel his searing anger like fire on his skin. If Duo had even remotely felt anything for him, Milliardo thought, he had just crushed it under his heel, yet, at that moment, the pain of the uncertain feelings in Milliardo's heart didn't equal the intense pain of his guilt.  
  
Milliardo did try to think of Preventer business, but the drive was a long one and the war kept trying to bleed through the cracks in his determination not to think about it. At last, he turned to the one distraction in the car, Duo.  
  
"I thought that you never went anywhere without Yuy."  
  
There was a silence that stretched. Milliardo continued to stare out of the window, making it seem that the thought had been just a random off shoot of something more important that he was thinking about.  
  
Duo spoke at last, sounding unsure of what Milliardo wanted to know. "It's true that we're close, but we aren't joined at the hip," he replied. "I suppose, if this was more than just a pick up the boss trip, Heero wouldn't feel comfortable letting me go alone. We're a team. We watch each other's backs. He's my partner. We know each other's moves. All of them."  
  
That last sentence could have meant many things. Milliardo closed his mind to the most obvious and continued doggedly, "How can you operate effectively when you have that kind of dependence on one another? I don't understand why Sally allows it to continue."  
  
"She gets us both or none at all," Duo replied matter of factly. "If you're wondering if we can do a mission separate, we can and have. We just don't like it." He paused and then said carefully, "We aren't a liability. We both know the mission comes first. We made that decision when we signed on. We've been put to the test. We passed." There was the sound of cloth rustling. "Look."   
  
Milliardo turned his head and saw that Duo had lifted up his shirt. That close to him, Zechs could see many scars crisscrossing his slim, wiry torso. Milliardo found himself swallowing hard as he caught sight of a pink nipple and realized that there was a thin, silver loop through it that twinkled with a tiny amethyst.  
  
"There," Duo pointed to a scar up under his arm. It was the thickest one. "I took that on a mission and almost bled to death, but Heero left me where I fell and didn't come back for me until he had completed his infiltration mission. A lot of lives had been depending on us. We didn't let them down."  
  
Duo let his Preventer shirt fall back and he tucked it back into his pants as Milliardo said, "I see." It was all that he could manage to say without his voice breaking. The image of that pink, erect nipple, with it's delicate ring, was burned on his eyes. His blood was flaming through his veins and he could feel it burning his face. He turned back to the window and hunched away from Duo, hating himself, his body especially, for wanting what his mind disliked intensely.  
  
"People say-" Milliardo began, but Duo cut him off.  
  
"People say a lot of things, sir, but my personal life is my business," Duo said stiffly. "Heero is my best friend, he's my partner, and together we do our job and we do it well. That's all you should ask."   
  
"You are correct," Milliardo replied, just as stiff and then couldn't think of anything to follow up with. He shifted uncomfortably, wishing that the ride was over with and not relishing the fact that there would be more of them if he continued to be so incapacitated.  
  
"Look," Duo said as if feeling the need to relent some. "A lot of people don't get me and Heero. Sometimes, I don't know what we got either, but I do know that when we first met we just 'connected' instantly. We're like two parts that don't work unless they are together. When we work together, we get through life like we're supposed to, but when we are alone, we screw up. On a mission together, we don't even need to talk most times. We gel completely, ya know what I mean? We're a force to be reckoned with."  
  
"I need to verify that," Milliardo heard himself say and he sounded harsh and judgmental in his own ears.  
  
"I can understand that," Duo replied. Milliardo looked at him in surprise and Duo chuckled and grinned. "We are an odd couple. I'd be thinking just like you, if I was in your shoes, that two weirdo, war babies like me and Heero couldn't possibly do anything together. We'll show you, though. You'll understand, then."  
  
Milliardo didn't understand at all and didn't really want to. Duo had said that he and Heero had a special relationship, end of story. Milliardo swore at his thoughts, reminding himself that fraternizing with subordinates was against regulations, especially if all that he had in mind was relieving tension, boredom, and sexual frustration. He needed to get his questionable libido under control and to get well as quickly as possible so that he could extricate himself from a possibly messy situation. When Duo was out of sight at last, mission completed, then Milliardo was sure that he would forget all about the young man.   
  
"Penny for your thoughts?" Duo quipped and then laughed as Milliardo stiffened. "Maybe not, huh? You need to learn to relax, sir."  
  
"Maxwell?" Milliardo said sternly.  
  
"Sir?" Duo replied with raised, amused, eyebrows.  
  
"Do you know what insubordination is?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"One more word and I will put you on report."  
  
There was silence.  
  
"Well?" Milliardo demanded.  
  
Still silence.  
  
He glared at Duo. The man stared back with an innocent expression. Milliardo repeated his own words to himself, and then felt a flush of temper as he realized that Duo was doing exactly as he had ordered. Milliardo growled. "Good!"  
  
Duo barely suppressed a laugh.


	5. Joined at the Hip

"I'm in the building," Duo said simply into his cell phone, shut it, and then shoved it back into a pocket before putting hands to the back of Milliardo's wheelchair and pushing. "They have robotic chairs you know. This model is prehistoric."  
  
Milliardo frowned. "They make muscles weak by inactivity. I'm attempting to regain my health."  
  
"By having me push you around?"   
  
"It isn't necessary for you to do so," Milliardo retorted.  
  
"I thought that I was helping." Duo maneuvered them through the doors of Preventer Headquarters and then paused in the wide, marble floored foyer as they were suddenly surrounded by Preventer agents and employees rushing all around them. "If you want to do it yourself, sir, I'll step back."  
  
Milliardo heard amusement in Duo's voice. Milliardo's arm was hurting. He knew that pushing the wheelchair was going to be impossible for him and it seemed that Duo knew it as well. Milliardo had insisted on the manual wheel chair, thinking of the future when pushing and straining his arm muscles would be good therapy.  
  
"It's too crowded," Milliardo said stiffly. "Continue to push for now."  
  
"Yes, sir," Duo replied and Milliardo imagined a smirk, even though he didn't look to confirm it. The very idea that Duo was laughing at him caused Milliardo to seethe. He hated looking weak, hated even worse looking weak in front of someone like Duo Maxwell, who he felt would joke or talk about his weakness to others.  
  
When attacked, attack in return, Milliardo thought as he asked, "The person that you called when we arrived. It was Yuy?"  
  
"Yes," Duo replied and a slight edge to his tone informed Milliardo that the young man suspected where Milliardo was going to go with his questioning. He reminded himself that Duo was a genius. The foolish joker act was just that, a cover over a very laser sharp mind.  
  
"I can't help but think that your dependence on one another is a distinct liability," Milliardo commented.  
  
There was a long silence as Duo pushed the chair into an elevator, pushed a button for a floor, and then replied, "It hasn't so far. I know you've already checked our records."  
  
"I know the dry facts of your missions," Milliardo said, "but I don't know anything about the why of it. I might have more confidence if I understood the psychology of your dependence."  
  
He looked up at Duo and saw the young man's pensive expression, his brooding purple eyes under his brown bangs. Duo grinned suddenly, but it was fierce and not humorous at all. "I guess you could just call us shell shocked and crazy," Duo said. "How many ways do you want me to explain something I don't understand myself? We're a package. We come together no matter what. Take it or leave it."   
  
Milliardo opened his mouth for a very pointed question, seeing his opening, but Duo forestalled him.  
  
"Sir, I told you before, when you were half hanging off of that climbing rock," Duo said. "My personal life is only your business if you make yourself a part of it."  
  
Milliardo clenched his jaw, ground his teeth together, and then snarled, "My interest is in the Preventers and how you operate in your position within it! If you think that I have any personal attraction to you, you are mistaken, sir! Our dealings together are strictly professional and shall remain that way."  
  
The elevator opened and it was then that Milliardo realized that Duo had been leaning on the door closed button. "Well, that's clear enough, sir," Duo replied smoothly. "Thanks for not beating around the bush."  
  
Duo wheeled Milliardo out of the elevator and into his office. After removing the padded chair behind Milliardo's desk, he wheeled Milliardo into position there.  
  
"Duo?" Heero was suddenly standing in the door way, "We have to report to section C."  
  
Duo frowned. "I'm supposed to watch our commander here."  
  
"Sally's orders," Heero insisted.  
  
"Sir?" Duo asking Milliardo for permission.  
  
Milliardo made an impatient motion with one hand as he picked up a pencil and slid reports towards himself. "I have work to catch up on and I have a secretary. I'll page you when I need to go some where."  
  
"Uh, okay," Duo responded, but he seemed unsure.  
  
"GO!" Milliardo barked.  
  
Duo started, "Okay, okay!" he replied and walked towards Heero. As he came close to the other young man, he slid an arm around Heero's waist to pull Heero after him. "Let's go, Heero, but let's stop and get a danish on the way. I'm starved!"  
  
Such an intimate gesture made without thought. Milliardo's world had narrowed down to that slender arm with its wiry strength sliding around the rock hard torso of a man obviously used to such gestures. As the door closed behind them, Milliardo was suddenly aware of a sharp pain in his hand. He looked down and saw that he had snapped his pencil in half and was clutching it so hard that his knuckles were white.  
  
That small loss of control, and feeling such anger and impotence, had made it that much harder for Milliardo to call for Duo's assistance later in the day. If Duo had returned with Heero, and Milliardo had been forced to admit his weakness and embarrassing need for help in front of the one man who had been his ultimate rival during the war, Milliardo was sure he would have denied his body until he caused himself harm. As it was, Duo arrived alone, and Milliardo only had to suffer through the embarrassment of having Duo wheel him to the restroom.  
  
"I don't need your help!" Milliardo snarled when they had reached the door and Duo began to attempt to help him inside. "Stand here and wait for me to come out."  
  
Duo made a skeptical face. "There isn't anything to get upset about, ya know, sir? I pee, you pee, everyone has to pee... I'm telling you, you're going to have trouble. It's a long hallway and then two doors."   
  
Milliardo's jaw worked. "I am not incapacitated, Agent Maxwell, and I am your commanding officer. You will not question my orders!"  
  
Duo raised cinnamon eyebrows, opened his mouth to argue, and then closed it and shrugged. He leaned against a wall and began to whistle a lively tune.  
  
Milliardo glared and then accepted that Duo was going to do as he was told. Keeping one hand on the wall, he limped heavily into the restroom hallway.  
  
The hallway seemed to stretch forever. Milliardo was ashamed that he had to stop three times and let the waves of pain roll over him before he was able to steel his will and walk again. When he reached the door at the end, he touched it as if he had reached a precious goal, nodded to himself for a job well done, and then opened it.  
  
It was difficult. Milliardo couldn't let himself get off balance and using his weight to swing the door was out of the question. Finally, he used his body as a wedge and slid through. That left another stretch of hallway, about four paces, and another door. Milliardo cursed the man who had designed it that way.  
  
Milliardo managed that door in the same manner as the first, but he was panting now and getting dizzy. His body was protesting by sending him lightning jolts of pain. He wasn't sure that he could stand it much longer, but calling for Duo was now not an option.  
  
The urinal was a welcome relief, both as a wall to lean against and a cessation of the pain in his bladder. He had almost waited too long, knowing that this simple act was going to be a trial.  
  
Finished and clothing back in place, Milliardo turned and then fell face first onto the tile, his bad leg letting him know that it wasn't putting up with his pride and foolishness any longer. There was only one thing that Milliardo could do then and his face turned as red as fire as he did it. Milliardo Peacecraft, Prince of the Sanq Kingdom, crawled across the restroom floor to the door.   
  
Getting it open was a problem. Milliardo levered himself up and tried to get his fingers in the handle. His hand was shaking, but he leaned back in his sitting position and used his weight to open it. On the other side of that door was Duo Maxwell, who was looking at Milliardo with a mixture of curiosity and concern.   
  
Milliardo expected a lecture, a laugh, or a joke at his expense. Instead, Duo leaned down, put a hand under his arm, and helped into his waiting wheelchair propped halfway through the second door.  
  
"Ready to go back to your office, sir?" Duo asked in a respectful tone.  
  
"Yes, Agent Maxwell," Milliardo replied, his mind in turmoil as he reevaluated his opinion of Duo. "If you please?"  
  
The rest of the day was uneventful. Milliardo suspected Sally Po of cutting back on his work load. By early afternoon, Milliardo had cleared his desk of all work and was left to contemplate, with embarrassment, his earlier foolishness. Why had it been so hard to accept Maxwell's help? He wondered. The man would have helped him into the restroom and left him to accomplish his task there by himself. Milliardo had never considered his pride so great that he couldn't bend enough to accept some help. Where Duo was concerned though, Milliardo's pride was working over time. There was something about the young man... Milliardo couldn't allow himself to look weak in front of him or... or what? A small voice said, 'unworthy' but Milliardo squelched that.  
  
Milliardo felt suddenly tired. The pain was a constant presence and his injuries were not happy about him sitting in a chair for so long, however well padded that leather chair was. As boredom took it's toll, he found his eye lids drooping. He made one last effort to find some work to do, but succumbed to exhaustion in spite of it, unknowingly falling asleep with a stack of file folders as his pillow.   
  
"Stop getting jealous." Duo's whispered voice roused Milliardo. How long he had been asleep, he wasn't sure, but his stiffened and aching body was protesting strenuously however long it had been.  
  
"I'm not jealous," Heero's voice replied. "I think that it would be wisest to allow him to continue sleeping, rather than wake him. The man obviously has over extended himself. If you wake him, it is almost certain that he will continue to work and make his health worse."  
  
"He's going to get all kinked up like that," Duo protested. He chuckled. "Kinky Zechs. I made a funny."  
  
"I don't think that he would appreciate your humor," Heero replied disapprovingly, but then, "It is funny though."  
  
Duo made a mock gasp. "I didn't even have to explain it this time. You're improving your funny bone, Yuy."  
  
"Hn, well, the humor in it is obvious," Heero said.  
  
"Ah!" Duo admonished. "What have I told you about analyzing humor? Funny should never be analyzed."  
  
Heero chuckled. It seemed an odd sound coming from a young man who always appeared darkly sullen to Milliardo, but it didn't last long and Heero soon became serious again. "The new team leader doesn't have the commander's experience. We will have to work out contingent plans in case he makes wrong decisions during our assignment."   
  
Duo sighed, "Over time, you mean." Milliardo heard Duo make a sound as if he were stretching and cracking his back. "Lifting and pushing around this big guy is exercise enough. I don't look forward to piling on after hour mission simulations."  
  
"You like him," Heero whispered.  
  
"If you're talking about the commander, what's it matter?" Duo huffed. "He's out of my league and he doesn't like me."  
  
"Don't be stupid," Heero growled.  
  
There was a stretch of silence and then Milliardo heard them walking towards the door.   
  
"Are you okay with that?" Duo asked at last.  
  
"Yes," Heero replied, but added grimly, "Unless he decides we can't be together."  
  
Duo snorted. "If he did, it wouldn't happen, Blue Eyes. Friends for life. You promised and I promised."  
  
"As long as you remember it... Shorty," Heero replied.  
  
"Shorty?" Duo snorted again. "Keep trying."  
  
"Hairy?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Pug face?"  
  
"I do NOT have a pug face!"  
  
"Says you!"  
  
"Heero... You're getting good at this."  
  
"Good?"  
  
"Yeah," Duo laughed. "Good. Keep working on it."  
  
The door closed softly and Milliardo sat up. He had some new insight into Heero and Duo and he wasn't sorry for his small subterfuge.  
  
"Friends," Milliardo whispered. "Close friends. Inseparable friends... not lovers?" There was a flair of hope deep within him, but he refused to acknowledge it. What was it to him? Duo had been right. He, Milliardo was out of the young man's class and he outranked him by a large degree. Not that he had been at all planning to... Milliardo shook his head sharply. There were still so many unanswered questions about those two and he hated mysteries. There was also the mention of his replacement not doing his job. Milliardo determined to look into that immediately. Two tasks, each of equal importance.  
  
"Jennifer?" Milliardo called as he hit the intercom on his desk.   
  
"Sir?" his secretary replied.  
  
"Get me all the information on Heero Yuy and Duo Maxwell that you can find and set up a meeting with Sally Po."  
  
"But... sir," the woman said uncertainly.  
  
"Yes?" Milliardo snapped impatiently.  
  
"I thought that you would be going home early," the secretary replied. "Your health..."  
  
"That is not your concern," Milliardo cut her off. "Follow my orders."  
  
"Yes, sir!" the secretary replied with a nervous squeak.  
  
Milliardo sat back in his chair. It didn't matter how much he was incapacitated. He couldn't leave important work to incompetents or loose cannons. He needed to take over the mission again and he needed to know, once and for all, if the team of Heero and Duo was fit for it.


	6. Speaking in Tongues

"You're name is..." Milliardo asked.  
  
"Carl Randall, sir."  
  
"And... you were the arresting officer?"  
  
"Yes, sir." The big man fingered one arm and looked angry. He was dressed in civilian clothes and he wasn't part of the police force any longer.  
  
"There was backup?"  
  
"Yeah, but they didn't come in time," the man growled bitterly.  
  
Milliardo sat back in his chair, fingers steepled and ice blue eyes almost hidden by his pale bangs. His computer was booted up with pertinent information and his desk was stacked with disks and files. He had a notepad as well, scribbled with brief notations. It had taken only a day to get interviews lined up. It seemed that there wasn't a shortage of men willing to tell their story about Gundam Pilot Duo Maxwell. That didn't bode well.  
  
"I would like a detailed account, if you please," Milliardo ordered as he motioned for the man to sit in a chair in front of his wide desk.  
  
"Is he in trouble?" the man asked with relish as he sat down. "If you need someone to testify against him, I'm your man."  
  
"It's nothing like that," Milliardo replied. "All Preventer agents are required to have a thorough back ground check. It seems that many things were omitted because of this man's age at the time and his reputation. I am rectifying that error in judgment."  
  
The man scowled. "Let me tell you, sir, he's not the kind of guy that you want watching over citizens! He's a freakin' maniac and a killer through and through! If I had it to do all over again, I would have fired a bullet and put him down like a rabid animal." He cradled his arm against him. "At least then I would still have my real arm and not  this prosthetic."  
  
Milliardo sat up, ignoring his aching body and asked quickly, "He damaged your arm?"  
  
The man nodded, jaw going tight. "He sliced it open with a knife. He cut through nerves and tendons and then it became infected! They had to cut it off!"  
  
Milliardo's jaw went tight as well. "A detailed account, please, " he ordered again grimly.  
  
The man scratched his head, eyes going hard as he remembered that day. "I got the call that there was a big fight; that some little kid was getting the crap beat out of him and I'd better hurry if I wanted to avoid calling for a body bag. I didn't know it was soldiers until I showed up on the scene..." He paused, brows coming down as he rubbed at his 'arm' again. "It was a mess. That kid had creamed almost all of them and he was after the ones trying to get away. I got to him just as he was about to snap one guy's neck. I held my gun on him and told him to freeze. He was covered in blood..." The man swallowed and he went pale. "The kid's eyes were dead, flat, like a shark's right before.. but he was grinning too..... He let go of the guy and turned to me. The guy didn't have the sense to run. He tried to punch the kid down, but the kid brought out a knife and sliced him wide open. When... When I tried to stop him, he cut at me too. Backup came then, but, it was too fucking late!"  
  
The man cradled his arm bitterly. Milliardo realized that his own hands were clenched very tight. He relaxed them with an effort and asked, "Were you there when Maxwell was questioned?"  
  
The man shook his head. "They dragged me away while other officers brought him down. I was already unconscious."  
  
Milliardo scribbled quick notes. "Thank you, Mr. Randall. I'm sorry that you lost your job because of that incident."  
  
"Wasn't that," the man grumbled, but refused to elaborate. Milliardo made a note of that too.  
  
"Jennifer," Milliardo called and the secretary came into the office. "See Mr. Randall out and compensate him for his time. I would like to see Mr. Rene Lane next."  
  
"Rene?" Randall said with a grunt. "That's good that you're asking him about this. He'll give you an ear full too. Are you talking to just him, or some of the other officers as well?"  
  
Milliardo replied, impatient to proceed, "It's correct to have several witnesses to an incident interviewed and then to compare their statements."  
  
"Yeah, I guess you're right." The man scowled. "Watch out though. Some of the men felt sorry for that kid and took his side. Damned freakin' idiots! If they were here, I'd spit on them!"  
  
"Thank you. Mr. Randall," Milliardo replied calmly and coolly. "I'll keep that in mind."  
  
"Yes, sir," Randall said respectfully and then left with the secretary.  
  
Milliardo rubbed at his forehead and then reached for his pain pills and a carafe of water. The man was bias, obviously, he thought, but what if the things he had described were true? If Duo had attacked arresting officers, that was far more serious than defending himself against attackers.  
  
Milliardo brought his attention back from his dark thoughts as Rene Lane entered his office. Milliardo motioned him to sit down. The man looked wary. Tall and thin, he had a hatchet type face and small, anxious eyes. He looked as if he had done something very wrong and that he suspected that he had been found out.   
  
"Everything is all right, Mr. Lane," Milliardo assured him smoothly. "I'm investigating the back ground of one of our agents. I've been told that you were one of the arresting officers for  Duo Maxwell."  
  
The man nodded, more of a twitch than a real gesture. Milliardo's reassurance wasn't calming him down. "He was crazy. We did what we had to." The man said that in a low, vicious tone.  
  
"I wish to have a detailed account from when you arrived on the scene,'" Milliardo told him as he scribble a few notes.  
  
"What are you writing?" the man barked suspiciously. "If this is about me and Jim Travers using clubs on that little, Gundam pilot shit-!"  
  
Milliardo felt a chill, but he didn't allow his emotions to show on his face or in his voice as he considered strategies. He assured the man, "I called you here to listen to your side of the story. No one is being judged or prosecuted."  
  
"That's good!" Lane snarled, "We were in our rights! After all he did during the war and what I saw left of those officers... "  
  
"You can begin your account," Milliardo told him simply, anxious to cut off the start of a list of grievances rather than the factual account he had wanted.  
  
The man fidgeted and then said more calmly, "Well, me and my fellow officers arrived on scene and saw several men down, including another officer. We rushed the suspect and separated him from his victim. He refused to follow our orders. We treated him as a deadly weapon and incapacitated him by all means necessary."  
  
"How did he appear?" Milliardo asked. "Was he angry, afraid...?"  
  
The man blinked and was quiet for a moment as he looked at a bad memory. "I could tell that he wanted a pound of flesh. He was vengeful, sir."  
  
"What happened after you took him into custody?"  
  
"We wanted to...," The man rethought what he had been about to say and said instead, "We were going to take him to headquarters, but the medics arrived and took him to the hospital. I heard he was canned in Muraka after that. If you ask me, they should have never let him out."  
  
Milliardo ask a few more questions and then let the man go. His notes were filling a page. He turned to a fresh sheet and asked his secretary to let in the next man.  
  
The man who entered was dressed in a medic uniform. He was big and blonde and seemed overwhelmed to be in the presence of such a famous man. He was tongue tied and it took Milliardo a few moments of small talk before the man could answer any questions.  
  
"You treated Duo Maxwell after picking him up from the arresting officers?" Milliardo asked.  
  
The man swallowed and looked green.  "Yeah, what was left of him. His injuries were extensive."  
  
"Do you still remember what those injuries were?" Milliardo asked. "I realize that It was some time ago-"  
  
"I don't think I'll ever forget a sight like that, sir," the man replied softly.  
  
"Explain."  
  
The man swallowed again and he looked down at his clenched hands in his lap. "Well, the officers didn't want to let him go. They had kicked and clubbed him, were still doing it when we arrived. The other medics fanned out to care for the other injured... and the dead... and me and my partner were on our own." He looked up and his eyes were full of pain and disgust. "He was just a kid, sir. Just a skinny little kid. If he had killed some of those bastards getting loose, I say they deserved it. They..." he paused and then he made motions with his hands as if replaying his own discovery of the damage. His fingers moved as if wiping at blood. "They carved up his back. It said something, I'm not sure what. Big letters all the way across. Burns, cuts, contusions, open wounds, broken bones. They tortured him, pure and simple."  
  
Milliardo asked in a tight voice, not really wanting to know the answer. "Rape?"  
  
"I checked on him later and read his medical report," the man admitted. "I just wanted to make sure he had made it through. It didn't list that, sir, but it listed about everything else. You can say they weren't such sick bastards, but... the rest...." The man rubbed at his face with his hands and then sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh. "Between those bastards that hurt him and the arresting officers, I'm not sure how he lived through it... or how he fought back hard enough to kill a few."  
  
"I want a detailed list of his injuries," Milliardo replied. As the man rattled off a list of nightmarish proportions, Milliardo wondered at the accuracy of his recollection. Milliardo had seen Duo bare to the waist and had seen his back as well. His skin had seemed smooth, with only enough scarring to account for the rough life he had led as a street child and a Gundam pilot. The things this man was detailing...  
  
"How were they able to send him to the detention center if his injuries were that severe?" Milliardo finally asked.   
  
The man scowled. "I wondered that myself. That's a rough place even with maximum security. Putting someone in there who can't defend himself... course, he probably spent the whole time in the med lab healing.  
  
"I will have to inquire," Milliardo replied, "about his conditions there."   
  
"He's a war hero, but people were afraid of him then," the medic told Milliardo. "Some had a grudge too. I think the court took all of that into consideration when they let him out again. Those men he murdered... it was self defense, plain and simple."   
  
"That is what I've been able to discover so far," Milliardo replied. "He was exonerated and released. Most of the records of that incident were sealed, though. I only have personal accounts to fall back on."   
  
The man stood, sensing the interview was over. He scratched his head and said, "Did you talk to Mr. Maxwell about all of this?"   
  
Milliardo was patient with the man's naivete. "When investigating a case, it's wise to get the facts from eye witnesses. The subject of the case is most likely to tell a  false account if he is facing censure or prosecution."  
  
"But...," the man flushed and then said, "I heard that he doesn't lie."  
  
Milliardo blinked. "It seems that you know a great deal about Duo Maxwell."  
  
The man looked uncomfortable. "After I knew who he was, and I was following his progress, I got curious. I read up on him."  
  
Milliardo replied as he shuffled his papers, "Then you know that he was a terrorist who murdered many, many people. I wouldn't attached altruistic traits to such a man."  
  
The man scowled. He seemed to fight with something unpleasant and then it burst forth, "That's strange coming from a man who almost destroyed the Earth! If you're talking about blaming him, or cutting him out of a job because of what he did in the war, then, I can't figure why you are where you are... sir."  
  
Milliardo gripped the edge of his desk hard and his gut went into a knot, his mind reeling. Always, when he least expected it, he was reminded of the horrific thing he had tried to do. "I was damaged by a mind enhancing machine, sir. The court judged that I was clinically insane at the time."  
  
"The court cleared you both," the medic ground out. "A lot of people wouldn't agree with them, I'm sure, but there you are. You get to go on as if nothing happened. Maybe this kid should get the same treatment? If you're looking for a smoking gun from me to keep him out of a job, or get him in trouble, you aren't getting it from me. I saw what I saw. They tortured him, pure and simple, and he fought back and saved himself. Afterword, our good police force beat the crap out of him and attempted to do more before I rescued him. Again, he defended himself. When I had him in the transport vehicle on the way to the hospital, he woke up. He didn't lay a finger on me while I worked on him. In fact, he grinned and said, `Sorry `bout the mess. Your cleaning lady is going to want a raise.' What the fuck, right? He's dying while I'm trying to hook him up to machines to save his life and he cracks a joke about the blood he got all over my vehicle."  
  
The man looked distant as he remembered the episode. He came back to himself and went pale, suddenly realizing that he had said strong words to a powerful man. What was it about Maxwell, Milliardo wondered, that caused men to give him their loyalty so quickly? He recalled the field test and how his men had given Duo the lead position and followed him gladly. Knowing his own reaction to the man, Milliardo knew the feelings they had experienced. Maxwell was a strong personality, but his easy going, joking mannerism were tempered by an underlying confidence and strength that cued people in that he knew exactly what he was doing. It was that, Milliardo thought, that had bothered him the most, that such insubordination was combined with such skill and that it worked when every book said that it shouldn't; that such men should be corrected or expelled from operations.  
  
"Sir?" the man prompted and he sounded uncertain.   
  
Milliardo came back to himself. "There's nothing wrong with speaking plainly. I will take everything you've said under consideration. Thank you for your time."   
  
"Uh, yes, sir, you're welcome sir." The medic didn't wait for the secretary. He let himself out with the anxiousness of a man escaping a tiger's den.  
  
Milliardo looked over his notes, entered some into his computer, and then sat back in his chair and sighed. Of all the people he had interviewed, the medic had seemed the most honest and the least likely to falsify his account for his own reasons.  
  
Milliardo dug into his pocket and took out Duo's picture. He felt a wave of disgust at himself for having made a copy of the original. Why? Why did he keep looking at it? Those lost eyes, that tight mouth, that look to the side as if he was begging for something... help? Knowing what he did now, Milliardo could now see the reason why Duo's skin had seemed so pale and his face distorted oddly. Someone had touched up the photo to hide the extent of his injuries. The why was obvious. They had put a severely injured man into detention, out of fear for his abilities and uncertain state of mind, Milliardo was certain, but it didn't excuse the fact that it had been criminal to do so.  
  
"Sir?" Duo Maxwell leaned into the office, one hand balancing him on the door knob. Milliardo turned the photo face down hastily.  
  
"What is it?" Milliardo asked and couldn't help looking at Duo, trying to see scars, some outward mark that he had suffered the injuries that the medic had claimed. There was nothing though, just smooth skin and a bright _expression that seemed unclouded by such a terrible past.  
  
"I wondered if you needed me for anything," Duo replied. "You haven't called in awhile."  
  
Milliardo covered the photo with his hand. It was strangely warm against his palm. "Yes, I do need you," Milliardo replied, and felt something deep inside echo that sentence and give it an even more personal meaning. He stifled it and growled, "I have a meeting to go to, but I need to eat first. Take me to the commissary."   
  
"All right!" Duo grinned. "I haven't eaten either. I didn't want to take off and eat in case you needed me and Heero was too busy to drop something off."   
  
Milliardo blinked and felt a chill. "You've been waiting for me to call?"  
  
Duo laughed. "Yeah, right out there." He pointed outside the office. "I didn't have anything scheduled today, so I decided to wait on your beck and call. Interesting guests you had today."  
  
Milliardo saw the glint in Duo's amethyst eyes, letting him know that the man wasn't amused at all. Milliardo tried to regroup, too many questions firing in his brain. He started with the most obvious. "Did they see you?"   
  
"No," Duo replied. "I was in the secretary's room, sitting in a chair and watching the soap operas on the vid screen she keeps back there for her breaks. Did you know Frances didn't really have Kile's baby? It was his evil twins!" He scowled and then said, "The secretary came in to get something and told me she didn't like any of those visitors you had scheduled. Being the good agent that I am, and having nothing better to do, I did back ground checks on all of them using the room's video recognition program." He shrugged and looked bitter and puzzled. "Seems I know all of those guys, even though I don't remember any of them."   
  
"I needed to know about that incident with the Oz soldiers," Milliardo replied defensively. The photo under his hand burned. "It is my opinion that an error in judgment was made by not investigating that incident thoroughly when you joined the Preventers."  
  
"I was under age," Duo told him. He had stepped into the room as they talked and now he was facing Milliardo across his wide desk. "That incident was sealed. I gave Sally permission to look into it so that I would have a clean file when I joined. I'm kind of pissed that she included any of that stuff. That's not what she promised me."  
  
Milliardo found his shield and he took it. "Sally gave me permission to investigate your files to judge your fitness as a Preventer. I had serious doubts." His shield turned into a sword and he suddenly had a weapon to put between himself and the inappropriate feelings he was having for a subordinate. "I still have doubts, Agent Maxwell."  
  
"That is was self defense?" Duo wondered and he grinned. His eyes gave that grin a demonic quality. His eyes were a window straight to his true feelings if anyone cared to look, Milliardo thought with a chill. At that moment, Duo was seething and ... hurt. There was pain there, a pain that made Milliardo's sword of words dissolve into nothingness. He ached for that hurt and felt wrong for having cut the man and caused it. "The court sided with me," Duo continued, "The court even prosecuted some of the people in that incident on my behalf."  
  
Milliardo hadn't known that. He hadn't been able to get that much of the court filings. "I needed as many facts as I could gather to prove that you weren't at fault in that incident."  
  
"Proof?" Duo suddenly stepped forward. "Listening to those guys won't give you that kind of proof. Do you want to see the proof that I showed the court, the proof that convinced them to let me out of that hell hole detention center?"   
  
Milliardo looked at Duo's smiling face, the pained, angry eyes, and nodded cautiously, suddenly unable to speak. When Duo came closer, Milliardo briefly felt in danger, but then Duo was turning his back and pulling his shirt up to his shoulders.  
  
"You have to feel with your fingers," Duo explained. "I had surgery done to cover up the worst of the scars, especially that one. It's good to have rich friends."  
  
Quatre Winner he meant, Milliardo thought distantly as he cautiously reached out and touched Duo's smooth seeming skin. It was like an electric shock, touching the man. Milliardo felt himself tremble and go hot from the top of his head down to his toes. He felt sixteen years old suddenly and fumbling through his first time, trying not to embarrass himself; trying to figure out what was right to do. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but Milliardo couldn't stop feeling it... until his fingers encountered a roughness that his eyes could barely see. Then his insides turned cold and he felt a wave of nausea as he traced the roughness that ran all the way across Duo' upper shoulder down to his tail bone. The letters must have been cut deep, must have looked horrific when they were fresh, and must have scarred terribly and remained permanently for anyone to see. They spelled out `Oz's Bitch'.   
  
When Milliardo lifted his fingers from Duo's skin, as if he had been burned, Duo dropped his shirt and stepped away as he tucked it back into his pants. "Can't get any better proof than that," he said, and added, as if he had been forced to say it many times. "I wasn't by the way. They didn't do THAT at least." Duo paused for a long moment and then turned, one cinnamon eyebrow arched. "Do you get it now? You should. People hate us. People want to hurt us. They're always waiting for a chance, waiting for you to drop your guard. I was stupid that day. I was moping around, hating how Heero wasn't with me and feeling like half a person, and not paying attention. They jumped me, dragged me off, and decided that a slow, painful death was the order of the day for Duo Maxwell. They got their's, sir, and I'm not sorry about it. I don't know if I blame you for looking into it, but I really don't like it. You push me much more and I'll take Heero and find a nice swat team somewhere who isn't so particular about my pedigree."  
  
Milliardo had a great deal to say, all of it profuse, unprofessional apologies. He could feel that deep, emotional, needy part of him uncoiling and wanting.... he knew what it wanted. He controlled it with an iron will and he said, almost coldly, "I think that I have all the information that I need. Once I compile it, I'm certain that everything will be to my satisfaction." He bent just a little, letting a small part of his true feelings out of the box to add, "I'm sorry if my investigation has caused you any discomfort."  
  
Duo blinked. "Discomfort?" He grunted sourly, ran a hand through his unruly bangs, and then shoved both hands into his pockets, rocking slightly from heel to toe. "You need to broaden your vocabulary, sir, 'discomfort' really doesn't describe it." He cocked his head and gave Milliardo an appraising look. "Well, if you are done causing me 'discomfort' for the day, should I go ahead and take you to the commissary?"  
  
Milliardo felt the tension and it made all of his soldier's instincts prickle and warn him. "I can have my secretary bring something here..." he began, but Duo was already taking hold of the back of his wheel chair and pulling him away from his desk.  
  
Duo's voice was cheerful again as he said, "It's my job, sir. Let me do it."  
  
Milliardo heard another meaning in his words, a plea, maybe. "All right," he said against his better judgment. "Do your job, but I will be observing you closely."  
  
"That's YOUR job, isn't it?" Duo chuckled and it sounded genuine. Milliardo didn't hear any anger in his voice. It was as if Duo had mentally erased the past few minutes. He seemed happy and ready to please as he wheeled Milliardo to the commissary.  
  
As Duo joked and called out to the people he knew in the hallways, Milliardo began to wonder at the man's sanity. It didn't seem possible to forget such a troubling episode so quickly and thoroughly. It opened up an entirely new line of questioning in Milliardo's mind, one that had nothing to do with Duo's competence or his innocence in a long ago murder case, but everything to do with his mental fitness.   
  
"I can hear wheels turning," Duo suddenly said in Milliardo's ear.   
  
Milliardo started and looked up at him. Duo was smiling almost gently.  
  
"Sorry I confuse you so much," Duo said in all earnestness, "When you have me completely figured out, I'd like to see your report, k?"  
  
Milliardo suddenly laughed. It was a half strangled eruption, that he quickly stifled, mortified. Duo patted his shoulder as they entered the commissary, as if in sympathy for Milliardo's corrupted control.


	7. Conversations With Death

Milliardo had progressed to a cane. Leaving the wheelchair behind had been utter relief. His pride had taken a fall while he had been forced to sit and be pushed around by Duo and who ever else could spare the time. When he had progressed to wheeling himself, it had been awkward because of his still aching arm and shoulder. He had forced himself to do it though, just as he was forcing himself to use the cane and ignore the sharp pains that told him that he was doing things too soon.  
  
It was good to walk out into the sunlight of a courtyard though, to take a deep breath, to feel the sunlight on his face, and to know that he had managed to get there on his own. It was a thrill of accomplishment that Milliardo allowed himself to bask in, a small salve to his weeks of humiliation.   
  
There was a repetitive, low, creaking noise. Milliardo blinked and looked around, his pale hair fluttering in a light breeze. His ice blue eyes looked this way and that, searching out the courtyard with a soldier's tense nervousness. In a far corner, almost obscured by bushes and small trees, Milliardo could see a small children's play set. It was for the day care, he remembered, the one Sally had set up for the Preventer women as soon as she had taken command. Milliardo hadn't approved. Children and armed agents, going on, and preparing for, dangerous missions, didn't mix in his mind.  
  
Curious, Milliardo limped heavily down the walkway that wound from the courtyard, across a small strip of green grass, and to a set of swings and a elaborate jungle gym. A door led to the day care and Milliardo could see children through a window listening intently while they were read to by an adult. None of those children were on the play ground, though. The person on the swing, making the small creaking noise as he swung back and forth gently, was Duo Maxwell.  
  
Duo was short enough to manage it. His feet cleared the ground and his braid flew behind him as he swung. His expression was relaxed, and it was obvious that he was enjoying himself. Milliardo wasn't fool enough to think that his approach had gone unnoticed. Duo confirmed it by saying, "Nice day, isn't it, sir? Is there something you needed?" Duo looked sideways at Milliardo and he didn't stop swinging. "My cell phone didn't ring, if you tried to call me."  
  
"Maxwell..." Milliardo began, not sure what he was going to say, but knowing that he felt strong disapproval.  
  
Duo sighed and smiled. "I know, looks kind of crazy, doesn't it? I didn't get to do things like this when I was young though. When I come out here to eat my lunch, I feel like I just have to swing. It's nice, simple, and relaxing, too."  
  
"It's ridiculous and childish!" Milliardo growled.  
  
Duo shrugged. "I guess... doesn't matter though. Haven't you ever done something ridiculous and childish just because it made you feel good? Sometimes, you just gotta forget what other people think."  
  
That struck too close to home, too close to the humiliation Milliardo had felt, imagining that everyone was judging him as weak. "I read your file. You were a street child on L2."   
  
Duo nodded, sobering. "All I had time to do back then was to figure out where my next meal was and how to not get killed."  
  
"You were taken into an orphanage though," Milliardo pointed out.  
  
Duo's face went very pale and his jaw tightened. His eyes suddenly had such an intense 'elsewhere' look that Milliardo felt a chill creep down his spine. "I don't wanna talk about that," Duo growled. His hands worked on the chains supporting the swing, something gnawing at him deep inside, and then he abruptly changed moods and smiled. "You're bringing me down, sir. I came out here to relax. Your second in command had us running mission drills all morning."  
  
Milliardo was frozen, not saying anything for a long minute. Duo had switched tracks like the flicking of a light switch. Milliardo had seen that type of behavior before, in men who were suffering from shell shock, post war syndrome; traumatized men who were covering up intense mental pain and suffering.  
  
Duo cocked his head at the seat beside him. "Why don't you sit down? There isn't anywhere else and you look shaky."   
  
Milliardo was tall. He knew he would look ridiculous sitting on a child's swing, but Duo was right, he was shaky. He had over extended himself. He glanced at the window and the children sitting there. They had their backs turned. They wouldn't see him looking foolish. Was it worth it, doing such a simple thing, if he could continue to talk to Duo and perhaps pry some answers out of him?  
  
Duo raised a cinnamon eyebrow. He was such a handsome man and his smile could charm a man eating tiger, Milliardo thought, and then clamped down hard on those stray thoughts. As he sat down on the empty swing, Milliardo felt some satisfaction, albeit small, when Duo looked very surprised. Milliardo balanced awkwardly, his cane tangling. Duo automatically reached out and steadied the swing with a hand on one of the chain supports.  
  
"I want to talk to you," Milliardo explained roughly, "and I don't want to fall down while I'm doing it." It was an admission of weakness that he hadn't wanted to make, but it was for a purpose and Milliardo was willing to make that sacrifice.  
  
He was taken aback, though, when Duo said, standing up, his one hand still on the chain, "If you feel shaky enough to do something like this, sir, then I need to help you back to your office. We can talk there. Come on, you can lean on me." He reached out his free hand to help Milliardo up. After a second's hesitation, Milliardo took it.  
  
Once again, Duo was showing a side of his joker, easy going, irreverent personality that Milliardo was finding hard to believe in. Once again, Duo was choosing not to embarrass or take advantage of Milliardo when he was at his weakest. Milliardo held that hand, but didn't make any attempt to get up. He stared into Duo's eyes and suddenly felt as if he were drowning and that he was perfectly willing to do so.  
  
Duo's hand was soft, but there were callouses on his fingertips. It was warm, almost comforting the way it curled around Milliardo's hand. Milliardo looked down at their two clasped hands and he suddenly felt his throat tighten.  
  
"Tell the truth," Duo whispered.   
  
Milliardo clenched in every muscle. He was used to being in complete control of himself, this burning uncertainty, this confusion, as if he were some shy girl, was almost more than he could stand. "It's... It's not right," Milliardo managed to reply in a small voice. "You know that."  
  
"I guess not," Duo said as he let loose of Milliardo's hand and settled on the swing next to him once more. "I'm younger than you. I'm not in the same class. I'm your subordinate in just about everything..." He paused and then added, "In everything, but skill, that is."  
  
Milliardo bristled and his jaw worked as he turned his head and glared at Duo. "Do you think so, Agent Maxwell? That has yet to be proven to my satisfaction. Your past-"  
  
Duo looked pained and he stared off into the distance. "See? Already you're throwing my past in my face. It's not going to work."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Milliardo demanded hotly.  
  
Duo blinked and then said, "You've been combing through my past. What do you expect to find? I was left on the streets of L2. I was a thief. I joined the sweepers. I did salvage work. I trained to be a Gundam pilot and I STOLE my Gundam. I killed people, your people, during the war. I killed men after the war. I was sent to a detention center for it. I joined the Preventers. I'm making a serious attempt to do my best to help people and to keep the law. That's me, that's Duo Maxwell. That's any number of reasons to treat me like a third rail and I really won't blame you for it." Duo looked at Milliardo steadily. "Just be honest. Tell the truth. Can't I have that in exchange for you dredging up the ugly past? Stop pretending that you're doing it because of that mission."  
  
Milliardo's face went hard. "What other reason would there be?"  
  
Duo frowned impatiently, "I'm not stupid, ya know, and I didn't live this long by not keeping my eyes open."  
  
Milliardo felt his gut go into a knot. "It isn't right," he repeated, almost under his breath.  
  
Duo's hand reached out. He took hold of the chain supporting Milliardo's swing and he carefully pulled the man closer to him. Milliardo felt an unreasoning fright at that intense look on Duo's face. It was a ridiculous reaction. Duo wasn't a danger to him... or maybe he was, Milliardo thought in a panic as the smell of some light aftershave and sandalwood came to his nose. It was coming from Duo and it immediately excited Milliardo despite his confusion and trepidation.  
  
"Sometimes, you have to do it anyway and not care what other people think," Duo said, his breath warm and sweet against the skin of Milliardo's cheek. "Sometimes, the rule book needs to get thrown out the window."  
  
Milliardo's military training bristled at that and protested inside of him, but his heart jumped at the possibility, at the idea that perhaps he could shrug off the chains of rules and duty and... "You won't get very far in the Preventers if you don't follow the rules," Milliardo replied in a clipped tone.   
  
"Some things are worth giving up for the right reasons," was Duo's reply and Milliardo felt the flick of a tongue against his earlobe.  
  
Milliardo jerked away, shocked, and felt the world gel into a pandemonium of opposing reactions. His body came alive with need, and a flash of heat that made him tremble, and his mind clambered as it tried to sort out what had just happened and form an appropriate response. Unfortunately, his mind reminded him of the fact that Duo had a nipple ring and tattoos and that he had claimed to be with someone before he had come to rescue Milliardo after his fall. Duo's bold move, and those reminders, equaled something nasty in Milliardo's mind and he responded with words that sounded prime, prudish, and condescending in his own ears, "Maybe that kind of behavior usually gets you want you want, Maxwell, but it doesn't get you anywhere with me." His heart and body cursed him.  
  
That could have meant so many things on so many levels. However Duo took it, it was clear that he was angry. His face flushed and his lips went into a tight, thin line. He let go of Milliardo's swing, stood up, and reached a hand for Milliardo, saying coldly, "If you would like to return to you office, sir?"   
  
Milliardo felt like a hypocrite. They were both men with the need of men. Milliardo wasn't a virgin. He had experienced a number of casual, sexual encounters without the slightest qualm afterwards. He couldn't hide from the fact that he found Duo very sexually attractive, either, and that his mind had already imagined a number of enticing scenarios involving removing all of their clothes. It was normal. Natural. Not something that could be consciously controlled. Why suggest that Duo was wrong for expressing his sexuality, too, and his interest? Was it because of his upbringing? Did his advances equal crude and mercenary because he had come from the dregs of the streets on L2?   
  
Duo said in the long silence, like a stone dropping into a quiet pond, "I don't lie."  
  
Milliardo blinked at him, not understanding for a moment, and then realization dawned. He had accused Duo of playing a game, of trying to seduce him, of maybe even trying to get Milliardo's favor in the old fashioned way. All of it amounted to lying and Duo did not lie.  
  
Maybe Duo didn't lie, Milliardo thought bitterly, but he, Milliardo certainly did. To deny his attraction for Duo, to try to find something about the man bad enough to drown out that attraction, he had searched through the man's records relentlessly, causing pain and humiliation to Duo. Milliardo had capped that by accusing Duo of being an opportunist as well.  
  
"I should be put on report," Milliardo muttered, suddenly hating himself for the weakness he saw within him; a weakness that had caused him to do so many unprofessional things and to abuse a subordinate.  
  
Duo didn't argue against that, instead he said, "Men made the rule book, sir, and men make a lot of mistakes. Sometimes, following your emotions is a lot more accurate than rule number three thousand ten, section nine, subsection zeta."  
  
Milliardo stared and then he asked softly, "What rule is that?"  
  
Duo's face suddenly eased and he chuckled, "I'm glad that you don't know either."  
  
Milliardo shocked himself when he cracked a smile. He hid it behind one hand, until he could school his face to sternness again, and then he levered himself off of the swing with Duo's help. With one little joke, Duo had erased the entire terrible mood of the moment. Milliardo felt tension ease, even though the problem of his gross insubordination and his attraction to Duo was still prominent. That was a gift, Milliardo realized, to take a volatile situation and to calm both parties with a few well chosen words. Duo's joking nature was also a trait that the rule books claimed was completely undesirable. 'Men made the rule book' Milliardo thought to himself, echoing Duo's words, and men weren't infallible, yet... He struggled.  
  
"You don't really need me any more sir," Duo said as he released Milliardo's arm. "I think it would be best if I asked Sally Po to return me to normal duties." As Milliardo tried to switch gears to think about that, Duo added, "If you need me again, you can just let me know."  
  
They were able to say so many things to each other without saying anything at all. Milliardo hated it. He longed to say what was on his mind, what he was feeling, and why he was fighting so hard against acknowledging his attraction. Duo would understand, he felt, and not judge him like he, Milliardo, was judging himself. The words remained locked behind his lips though, sealed by his need not to look weak, to be `the commander', to appear in control, and his own reluctance to break the rules that he was already beginning to question.   
  
"I think your request would be premature," Milliardo replied at last and Duo looked at him quizzically. "I do still require your presence."  
  
Duo arched a cinnamon eyebrow that expressed both rebellion and amusement. "You do, sir?"  
  
"Is that disagreeable with you, Agent Maxwell?" Milliardo wondered and couldn't keep the prickly sharpness from his tone.  
  
Duo studied him minutely for a moment and then smiled as he put a supporting hand under Milliardo's elbow. "No, not at all."  
  
Milliardo looked down at the top of the young man's head thoughtfully as he limped back to his office. It would have been easy to dismiss Duo as too young for interest of any kind, just because he was so much slighter and shorter than Milliardo, but Milliardo knew that there wasn't much of a difference between their ages and that it would have been a serious mistake to consider Duo a child. Duo was a man in every way and older than his years. Deep down, Milliardo admitted that Duo often made him feel less experienced. Milliardo had born his share of tragedies, and a man didn't come out of a war and a rebellion alive by being a fool or naive, but there was a great deal of inner knowledge that Duo seemed to posses, a treasure trove of intuition that always left Milliardo floundering to catch up with his leaps of understanding. When it wasn't infuriating him or making him feel embarrassed or inadequate, Milliardo could appreciate it.  
  
Could he dare it? Milliardo looked at the possibility honestly. Duo had not just hinted at his interest, but had given Milliardo permission to express his own. Milliardo ran with that scenario, trying to imagine the two of them being other than commander and Preventer agent and all that would entail. It wasn't hard to imagine sex. Milliardo felt himself flush uncomfortably hot as he pictured his hands running over that wiry body. No, that wasn't a problem. Imaging a relationship afterwards was more difficult. He tried to think of what it would be like to wake up next to that handsome face every morning, eat breakfast with that joking bundle of energy , separate and go to their work, meet at the end of the day and enjoy the evening after dinner. Those images wouldn't come to him and Milliardo knew why. Duo, for all that he professed that there was nothing else to know about him, still seemed a mystery to Milliardo. He didn't KNOW the man except for what he had gleaned on the surface and there was still the problem of ...  
  
"Duo," Heero said simply as he came from a side corridor. The dark, intense young man looked as if had been working hard. His hair was more mussed than usual and a sheen of sweat was on his skin. "Did you eat?" It didn't sound so much like an invitation as a man checking up on an irresponsible child.  
  
Duo replied with a chuckle, "Yes, I did, Agent Mother Hen."  
  
"Good," Heero replied, unruffled by the mocking nickname . His eyes flicked appraisingly to Milliardo. Milliardo expected a challenge in those dark blue eyes, instead, he found pleasure. "Sir," Heero said with a small nod.  
  
"Agent Yuy," Milliardo acknowledged. This was another aspect of Duo he would have to resolve as well, Milliardo thought. Duo had said that there wasn't Duo Maxwell without Heero Yuy and Milliardo still wasn't sure what that meant.   
  
Duo brightened as if he had sensed Heero's silent approval and was glad. "You clean up and I'll meet you in C-4, Heero," he said. "We still have those climbing maps to go over."  
  
"Twenty minutes," Heero agreed as he looked at his wrist watch. "Mark," he said, noting the time.  
  
Duo snorted. "I have to help the commander back to his office and then I'll join you.... around about twenty minutes, not exactly twenty minutes, bone head!"  
  
Heero frowned and then smiled. "All right," he said, and was clearly making an effort to discard his need to be precise about the time.  
  
As Duo proceeded to help Milliardo back to his office, Milliardo, forgetting his personal problems for the moment, couldn't help asking, "Climbing maps?"  
  
Duo blinked and then shrugged. "There are some high peeks near our target. Heero and I thought we might get in more stealthily if we went up them and over to the installation. We have detailed climbing maps to help us."  
  
"Who authorized that?" Milliardo demanded, suddenly furious. He turned to Duo, almost tripping on his lame leg. Duo gripped his arm hard and his other arm came around Milliardo's waist to steady him.  
  
"It hasn't been approved yet," Duo replied. "It's still just a proposal."   
  
Milliardo found his feet again, but Duo didn't let go of him. They stood like that, Duo looking up at Milliardo in concern and holding him in a tight embrace. "You will make your proposal to me with all the supporting documentation!" Milliardo growled in Duo's face. "I may be injured, but I am still in command of this operation!"  
  
"Yes, sir," Duo replied dutifully.  
  
The joker was gone and Duo looked very serious. Milliardo was caught within those amethyst eyes of Duo's once again. They stood like that for a long moment, silent, Milliardo struggling to make his mind work past a sudden, violent need to take hold of Duo's chin and kiss those tender looking lips deeply. Duo sensed it, maybe, and there was a spark of excitement and recognition in his face.   
  
Milliardo wrenched himself away with a tremendous, mental effort. He almost stumbled again as he left Duo's embrace, but he recovered quickly and straightened, one hand on Duo's shoulder and the other balancing his off side with his cane. "I have work to do," he managed to say thickly. "Get me to my office and then go make up that proposal."  
  
Duo's face went closed and he nodded. He helped Milliardo into his office and helped him to sit down. As he was turning to leave, he stopped suddenly and said without turning, "This isn't the war, you know, we're allowed to be human again."  
  
Milliardo felt the sting of that as Duo walked away from him and closed the door softly behind him.


	8. I Will Protect Thee

"This isn't research for a case against the detention center, is it?" the voice of the doctor demanded suspiciously.  
  
Milliardo was half turned away from the vid phone, tapping a pen on a pad of paper on his desk. He had already scribbled several notes and he already wasn't pleased by the answers he was getting. "No, it's a back ground check on an agent, nothing more. You will not be prosecuted for telling me the truth."  
  
"I'm recording this," the doctor warned.  
  
"Prudent," Milliardo replied. The balding doctor had a dark, cruel looking face, not something Milliardo would have liked to see at his bedside if he had been ill. The doctor had been the resident physician, though, at Duo's internment, and it was Duo who would have had to suffer this man. "When Duo Maxwell was brought to you," Milliardo continued, "can you remember what his condition was?"  
  
"Hell yeah," the doctor replied. He was bringing up information on a computer where he was, but he was already nodding and scowling as if he didn't need it to know the answers to Milliardo's questions. "Little bastard, Gundam Pilot! When a celebrity gets dumped into your hands, you remember it." He traced a line of information with a thick finger. "Broken bones, deep wounds, major contusions, a cracked skull, detached cornea, severe blood loss..." The man winced. "He had damage to the genitals and-"  
  
Milliardo sat up, looking at the man's image. "Rape?" he demanded with dread.  
  
The man shook his head. "No, they just kicked him good a few times."  
  
Duo had said no, that he hadn't been raped, Milliardo remembered, and Duo claimed never to lie. It was hard to remember or believe in that assertion though and it was good to have it confirmed.  
  
"Some burns, second degree," the man ended. "From cigarettes."  
  
Milliardo ran a hand over his face, trying to banish the images the man had called up and remain professional. "He was conscious when he arrived?"  
  
"Barely," the doctor replied. "After his arrest, orders went through and they grabbed him out of the hospital to give to us. We kept him in the infirmary. He answered questions when he was asked."  
  
"How long was he in the infirmary?" Milliardo wondered.  
  
"One week," the doctor replied with an edge to his voice.  
  
Milliardo blinked, thinking that he had heard wrong. "Say that again?"  
  
"It was the warden's decision!" the doctor exploded defensively, "and if you ask me, it was the right one!"   
  
Milliardo asked simply, "Why?"  
  
"There were mostly Oz soldiers in the detention center," the doctor replied. "The losers in a battle always have the worst time accepting defeat, so they make the most trouble. Every time I turned around, I discovered someone trying to get to that little shit to hurt him, even kill him. The first day, he was on oxygen and drips, and I found an orderly crimping his tubes. Putting him in lock up was the only answer, besides, once that friend of his showed up, we all felt like we were in danger."  
  
"Heero Yuy," Milliardo guessed.  
  
The doctor nodded. "He just appeared one day and nothing we said or did would make him leave. He just... stared... He never said anything. We called security, we called the military, we called everyone we could think of. They did everything short of tossing a bomb at him and, every time that I thought he was gone for good, he would show up again, still staring, still not saying anything. We didn't relax until he was locked up in a cell along with the little bastard."  
  
"You keep using degrading language when speaking about Duo Maxwell," Milliardo pointed out as he scribbled notes. "Why?"  
  
The doctor shot back angrily, "Because, every time he became lucid, he tried to cut, gut, punch, or kick someone. I had to keep him drugged and secured. Once Yuy showed up though, he calmed right down and let us do our work. It didn't make me or the other doctors feel better about the situation though. I kept wondering if that Yuy would break my neck if I didn't do my job right."  
  
"Why would you have to be afraid if you WERE doing it right?" Milliardo wondered.   
  
The doctor took offense, snarling, "Some people don't realize that you are doing your job correctly, sir, especially when a procedure makes their friend scream!"  
  
Milliardo tensed. "Did Yuy ever attack anyone?"  
  
The doctor calmed himself and shrugged. "Some of the general population, but that's to be expected. It was self defense each time. As for the staff... he was intimidating enough where no one dared to mess with the injured pilot, but... a few people came up missing and we haven't been able to locate them so far. They were all members of Oz during the war. I can't say Yuy had a hand in it, but..."  
  
"I didn't call you for baseless accusations," Milliardo replied, cutting him off. "Once Maxwell and Yuy were put in a secure cell, did anything transpire that was out of the ordinary?"   
  
The doctor grunted. "The whole situation was out of the ordinary. The warden wouldn't treat them as general population from the get go. Maxwell's hair was ordered cut short as per the rules, but Yuy wouldn't allow it. The warden not only didn't enforce the rules, but he made sure Yuy and Maxwell had what ever they requested. He told one of my orderlies that he was convinced that Maxwell would be released quickly and angering a Gundam pilot was as good as a death sentence for any man."  
  
"How was Maxwell's medical care carried out in his cell?" Milliardo asked.  
  
The doctor rubbed at his chin. "Well, it wasn't. I couldn't convince any of my staff to go into a cell with two Gundam pilots, especially when the warden had made it clear that he wasn't interested in controlling them. I wouldn't go in myself. I just made sure the supplies were delivered and that Yuy knew how to use and administer them. Like I said before, I just wasn't sure that my neck wouldn't get broken if he decided that I was doing something wrong."  
  
The doctor suddenly looked amazed and even a bit awed as he finished, "That little, long haired shit pulled through, though, as hard to believe as that is, and Quatre Winner himself was waiting at the gate, with the cream of the medical profession, when he was released."  
  
"Thank you. Doctor. I appreciate your candor and your time, " Milliardo said smoothly and turned off the vid phone before the man could reply. Pulling his pad of scribbles closer, Milliardo glared at them. Someone was going to pay for such heinous acts, Milliardo thought, and he was the man to see to it. The burn of anger and righteousness filled him completely. He needed to meet with officials right away and submit his findings.  
  
Milliardo paged his secretary and ordered her to call Duo. When the door to his office opened, though, instead of Duo, Heero Yuy was standing in the doorway.  
  
Milliardo scowled impatiently. "I didn't call for you."  
  
Heero looked very stern and professional in his Preventer uniform. His dark gaze was serious and Milliardo could see that he knew that Milliardo was not going to be pleased by what he had to say.  
  
"Duo wasn't feeling well. I hope that you will allow me to stand in his place and assist you," Heero said.  
  
Milliardo didn't speak as he considered the man before him. He could sense things under the surface and his soldier's instincts prickled. He asked, sharper and more concerned than he wanted, "He's ill? What happened?"  
  
Heero grimaced. "It might sound insignificant, but he has a headache. They can be debilitating for him."  
  
"A migraine, you mean?" Milliardo replied, feeling relieved, but then irritated. "I hope that he doesn't get them often or that they sideline him during an operation."   
  
Heero looked as if he were biting back a sharp response, but then he said calmly, "No, they don't happen often, and I've never known them to compromise any mission. He has a high threshold for pain. When it isn't a significant task though, it isn't necessary to suffer in order to accomplish it when someone else can easily stand in his place."  
  
Milliardo examined his irritation and, yes, anger, and it made him uncomfortable to realize that he was being unreasonable in his reaction. Agent Maxwell was ill. Heero Yuy had come in his place. Aside from a brief question as to the reason why, it shouldn't have been a concern or a problem. Milliardo knew what the fact of the matter was though. He was disappointed that Duo hadn't come. He had wanted to see the young man that badly, had wanted Duo to see what actions he was taking on his behalf.  
  
"I need to go to the Government Administration building," Milliardo said as he put all of his papers and disks into a briefcase, picked up his cane, and stood up. "You'll drive me there."   
  
"Yes, sir," Heero said simply and, when Milliardo hobbled to the door, he fell into step behind him, tense and ready to offer his hand if Milliardo needed his help.  
  
People looked at them as they passed them in the hall. Milliardo didn't blame them. He and Heero were notorious and people still recalled that they had been great rivals during the war and the uprising. No one expected them to forget or forgive and that was part of Milliardo's nervousness. He hadn't spoken a dozen words with Heero since joining the Preventers. A man couldn't gauge someone's mood towards him from so little contact. For all he knew, Heero still held a grudge against him. Milliardo frowned, feeling that familiar stab of deep guilt. Who could blame him if he did, or anyone else? In his madness, caused by the zero system, Milliardo had ordered the deaths of many people. He had been given amnesty because of who he was and the circumstances, but that didn't equal forgiveness. Milliardo had many enemies and Heero might still be one of them. Still, Milliardo thought about that approving look that Heero had given him earlier and Milliardo had to admit that he didn't understand it in light of their past.  
  
Heero called ahead on his cell phone for a car and it was waiting for them at the curb when they left the building. Heero held the door respectfully while Milliardo managed to get into the back seat without too much awkwardness.  
  
"Dismiss the driver," Milliardo ordered. "You will drive."  
  
Heero didn't question the order, but he did raise a dark eyebrow at Milliardo's trust in him. Milliardo was just as surprised at himself, but there were some questions that he wanted to ask Heero and that required privacy.  
  
As they drove, a light rain started falling. Heero turned on the wipers and they made a gentle, rhythmic noise as Milliardo searched for a way to begin. The sullen looking young man was like a wall and it was hard to know what lay beyond it.   
  
"I need to ask you some questions," Milliardo said at last, trying to keep his tone as neutral and as professional as possible. "I am going to the administration building to file papers implicating the detention center where Duo was interred, certain persons in the medical professional, and, perhaps some officials in decision making positions who dealt in a criminal manner in the incident involving Duo Maxwell and several ex Oz soldiers."   
  
"You are under the false impression that papers were not already filed on his behalf," Heero replied stiffly. "The incident was reviewed and all parties were acquitted."  
  
Milliardo was stunned. "How can that be?"  
  
Heero's face darkened. "There was a rush to sweep all things military, and all incidences involving soldiers, out of the public notice. We were supposed to be entering a time of peace. Reporting that there were problems and incidences of violence and unrest, was counter productive to the propaganda being established. Troublemakers were automatically whisked to detention centers for permanent incarceration, or retraining, and no records were made of those arrests. If there are any official government files left on the internment of Duo Maxwell, they state simply that he was held for humanitarian, medical, and psychological assistance following an 'accident'."  
  
"There was a trial," Milliardo pointed out.   
  
"With closed records, yes," Heero replied. "Any information on file since then was released personally by Duo and men not friendly to him. There wouldn't even have been a trial if it hadn't been for the efforts of Quatre Winner. Without his assistance, Duo would probably still be in the detention center."  
  
Milliardo stared down at his briefcase and smoothed a hand over it. "I have witnesses-"  
  
"Who will all change their story once they realize that you are filing reports and making accusations," Heero told him.  
  
Milliardo's hand gripped his briefcase hard. "Of course," Milliardo replied and then added softly to himself, "I'm shocked at my idealism."  
  
Heero heard him and he nodded, agreeing, "It is surprising."   
  
Milliardo looked up and saw Heero looking back at him in the rear view mirror. "Agent Yuy, tell me what happened at the detention center."   
  
Heero's eyes went to the road again. "Is that an order, sir?"  
  
"No," Milliardo answered after a long moment.  
  
Heero shifted in his seat and Milliardo saw him swallow hard. "I found him half dead with the word's Oz's Bitch carved into his back," Heero replied. "They were giving him minimal care and he was in danger from medics, orderlies, and the general population. If I hadn't arrived when I did... I couldn't sleep, I ate very little in case they drugged my food. They waited.... it was like animals waiting for a weakness, waiting to close in for the kill. I had to be alert at all times. Several times they managed to remove me, and each time I returned before any permanent harm could be done to Duo. He wasn't aware through most of it. I haven't told him many particulars. He doesn't ask either." Heero's hands worked on the steering wheel. "It was hell there, but I had been trained to endure and to always be ready. It served me well during that time. Sir, if you file reports and accusations, no one is going to pay for those months. No one is going to pay for harming Duo who hasn't paid already. You will only cause officials inconvenience as they ignore you and make your reports disappear. You are an important man, but Duo is just an agent. They may not touch you or your career, but Duo is another matter. It's possible that they might decide to 'make him go away' to keep the incident away from the public. They might have him sent to the detention center again."  
  
"The men who harmed Duo didn't all pay for their crimes," Milliardo pointed out darkly. "I spoke with some of them."  
  
"They did," Heero replied, "whether they know it or not."  
  
A soldier's motto was, 'The only good enemy is a dead one.' If Heero was talking about subtle types of revenge, Milliardo didn't like it. He though those men should have been executed quickly and efficiently. The thought startled him and he clamped down on it. He was law enforcement now, not an Oz general who had complete autonomy when it came to delivering justice among troops and citizenry alike. Heero's admission that he had practiced vigilantism should have prompted an arrest. Instead, Milliardo found himself only glad that at least something had been done to right a terrible wrong.  
  
"It should never have happened," Heero said softly.  
  
Milliardo remembered then that Heero blamed himself, "It's foolish to blame yourself," Milliardo said. "You couldn't have known that something like that would happen."  
  
"I did know," Heero replied sharply. "We had both received threats. When Duo told me that he suspected that he was being followed... he laughed about it, but I should have taken it more seriously. He was so sure that his training would get him out of any situation, that he was better than everyone else."  
  
"The arrogance of the young," Milliardo said pensively.  
  
Heero glanced at him darkly in the mirror. "You were not immune to it either, sir, and neither was I."   
  
Milliardo nodded, accepting that criticism. "True."  
  
Heero was silent for a long moment and then he said, "Duo gave me a reason to live. I was nothing inside. I kept... I thought the end of the mission meant that I could release myself from the loneliness, the pain of the life I had been living. I was welcoming the chance to end my life. I didn't have anything waiting for me, nothing to love or care about. Duo latched onto me, despite everything I did to discourage it, and he... I'm not sure... I'll use his words, "Heero looked embarrassed but he said, reciting from memory, " 'I'm planting seeds inside of you, Heero, seeds that are going to sprout after a lot of work, and, one day, a life is going to bloom for you.' Duo told me that Father Maxwell and Sister Helen, the people who had taken care of him briefly when he was young, had said the same thing to him. He told me that he wished they had lived to make his life bloom." Heero frowned as if he were still trying to understand it himself. "We stayed together. There is just something about him... I can't imagine him not being in my life."  
  
Milliardo saw Heero shift uncomfortably again and come back to himself. "Sorry, sir."  
  
"You love him?" Milliardo asked before he could stop himself, wanting to know, sensing Heero's vulnerability at that moment, and weak enough and uncertain enough himself to dare ask.  
  
Heero nodded firmly without hesitation and said, "There will never be anyone else as close to me as Duo. I think, if things had been different, we might have been more than friends."  
  
Milliardo felt the edge of his briefcase bite into his hand. "Different?"  
  
"Duo is gay," Heero replied. He glanced at Milliardo in the mirror and then smirked, as if he understood perfectly well how Milliardo was hanging on his next words. "I'm not, sir."   
  
The car stopped. Milliardo sat silently, digesting that bit of information as his image of Duo and Heero changed. There was a flutter deep down inside of him, a feeling of relief and hope.   
  
The door of the car opened. Milliardo suddenly became aware of their surroundings. They were back in front of the Preventer headquarters. Heero was waiting respectfully for him to get out of the car. Milliardo almost demanded to know what Heero thought he was doing, but then he nodded, understanding, as he began to get out of the car. There wasn't any purpose in going to the Government Administration building. Nothing Milliardo filed, and none of his accusations, were going to spur any investigations. Heero was right, the only thing Milliardo would accomplish would be to make trouble for Duo.   
  
Milliardo paused. He didn't look at Heero, but he asked, "We were enemies. Doesn't it bother you that I am with Duo?" Milliardo meant it in the working sense, but both of them knew the real question hiding in it's shadow.   
  
"You were my greatest enemy, but that was war, and we aren't enemies any longer," Heero replied with certainty. "What better person than you, a man as skilled as myself, to protect Duo as well as I would?"  
  
It wasn't idle flattery, but the highest compliment Heero could pay any man, Milliardo realized, and, even though Heero was far beneath him in rank and station in life, even though he was younger than Milliardo by a few years, Milliardo still couldn't help feeling a warm pleasure at receiving the former pilot of Wing's trust. As he followed Heero back to his office, Milliardo hoped that he would never have a reason to make Heero regret that trust.


	9. The Heart of the Matter

"After the mission," Milliardo said to himself as he watched the men... his men, go over their gear. They were knee deep in supplies and weapons in a large hanger, the mood tense, everyone speaking only to correct or reply to a question. They all wore dark military clothes, the Preventer badge a medal of honor on every sleeve. Duo was standing on a pack, pretending he could fly for a moment as he flapped his arms and jumped off to go to his next project. The men laughed at the antic and Milliardo felt the tension ease a hair. After the mission, I will talk to him about my interest in him, Milliardo thought. Now, they couldn't be distracted, couldn't fraternize, couldn't think of anything but the hard work ahead. Duo had to belong completely to the men.  
  
"Tuck in your hair," Heero said shortly as he passed behind Duo and gave his braid a meaningful yank. Duo grimaced, nodded, and snaked the over three foot length down into the back of his jacket. He reached up under the hem and seemed to secure it somehow. Tucking the end into his belt?  
  
Duo and Heero were wearing climbing gear and they had very light packs compared to the other men. They would be going in first, taking a mountain route to infiltrate the target. Milliardo had mountain experience, but, as the commander of the group, his position would be with operations, coordinating the team. Even if he had been able, he wouldn't have been on the mountain with them. It didn't keep Milliardo from wishing that he could have gone, that he could be there to taste the adrenaline rush they would soon be experiencing as they faced the dangerous heights.  
  
"Ready sir," a man said at Milliardo's elbow.  
  
"Load up," Milliardo replied as he watched Duo bob in and out of the crowd of men with Heero walking patiently at his elbow.  
  
Don't be distracted, Milliardo reminded himself sharply, as the call went out and the men boarded the transport plane with their gear. That little figure of Duo, seeming so slight and out of place among the brawnier, older men, was deceptive, Milliardo knew. The young man was far more capable of coming out of the operation alive then his most veteran officer. It was the other men, Milliardo told himself, that he should be worrying about.   
  
Milliardo entered the communications vehicle and took up his command chair at the center of a bank of machines and monitors. They had special channels, secure against eavesdroppers, and voice and video feeds would be beamed to him as the operation progressed.  
  
"Sir?" the pilot called back.  
  
"Proceed!" Milliardo ordered and braced himself as his transport hurtled off of the tarmac and into the air on a stream of jets. Milliardo felt still healing bones and wounds groan at him, but he ignored them, his hands moving over the controls even before the transport leveled out and took off towards the East.  
  
It was a long ride. Milliardo checked all of his feeds during that time, checking Duo's last and hearing his familiar voice pipe through the earphone, "Two cards, Stanley, and I'll see you five."  
  
"Just keep your damn hands where I can see them, L2 card shark!" Stanley's voice growled back.  
  
"It's all skill, Stanley my man, all skill," Duo soothed.  
  
"Base!" the pilot called and Milliardo found himself switching Duo's voice off with a quick flick of fingers as if he had been caught with his hands in a cookie jar. Milliardo growled at himself and then replied to the pilot, "Land and deploy."  
  
The transport shuddered and engines whined and protested as the vehicle was set down hard and fast. Milliardo didn't move from his position, just turned on outside monitors to watch his men pour out of their transport and begin rolling out supplies. Duo and Heero were already shouldering their packs, a light picking them out starkly in the darkness, as they headed at once into the forest. Duo's hands gesticulated as he grinned and said something to Heero.   
  
Milliardo watched that place where they had disappeared for longer than a minute, before he pulled himself away and began giving orders through his comlink. They were far from the target, getting his men in place there before sunrise, without detection, was a priority. Not being ready when his two Gundam pilots gave their signal of their mission accomplished, was unthinkable.   
  
Chatter was cut down to a minimum as the men deployed. Zechs watched the monitors, checked the blips on his map that told him positions, and ran through the plan over and over again in his head. They were about to stir up a deadly hornet's nest and he wanted as few men stung as possible. Intelligence had told him that, thought the factory was trying to make a new fighting m.s., they hadn't yet reached the implementation stage. A great deal hinged on that intelligence. If it proved to be wrong, and his men were confronted by suits, a well planned operation could quickly turn into a bloodbath.  
  
What was so terrible about peace that these renegades couldn't accept it? Milliardo wondered. He had spent his life in the military. Maybe he had his answer there. He couldn't stop wanting to go into battle. He couldn't bring himself to sit quietly at home and pursue peaceful hobbies. The only real difference between himself and the men he was about to arrest, was that he used his need for action in the service of those who did want to sit quietly and have peaceful jobs. The men he was after wanted control, power, and even chaos to further their need to fight.  
  
An aide placed a hot cup of tea near Milliardo's hand. He muttered a curt 'thank you'. The tea grew cold long before he took the time to drink it. The rim was still touching his lips, and he was taking a slow sip, when the rain started pounding on the shell of the transport. Milliardo swallowed hard and put the cup aside, almost letting it fall to the floor as he began trying to contact Heero and Duo as quickly as possible.  
  
"Damn, Heero, what else?!" Duo's voice sounded over the pound of rain.  
  
Milliardo gained a visual, but he couldn't see much. A light flashed crazily, rain poured against the visual, and the scene jolted and jumped oddly.  
  
"Maxwell!" Milliardo demanded. "Report!"  
  
"Sir!" Duo exclaimed and then to Heero, "It's the commander!"  
  
Milliardo's eyes flicked to Heero's visual. The scene was only slightly more stable. In the uncertain light, he caught several glimpses of Duo's distant upturned face being inundated by rain.  
  
"Sir, we made good time," Heero's steady voice informed Milliardo. "The climb wasn't difficult. The rain is hampering us now, though, and our time table will have to be moved back."  
  
"Scrub the operation!" Milliardo barked. "I want you down off of that rock at once. It's madness to make that kind of climb in a downpour."  
  
"Should you tell him or should I?" Duo's voice panted.  
  
"Sir," Heero's voice said, "Duo slipped and I am attempting to pull him to safety. I am finding it difficult to gain enough purchase on the rock for leverage. The rain is making the rocks slick and our visibility is nominal. I rate my chances of success at sixty percent. Less, if I attempt to climb back down to a lower position."  
  
Milliardo felt his heart clench. He looked anxiously from Duo's monitor to Heero's. The twisting and turning visuals made sense now. Duo was swinging at the end of his line and Heero was trying to find a way to hold on while keeping Duo from falling to his death.  
  
"I am deleting your part of the mission and I am sending troops forward into position for attack," Milliardo said. It felt as if someone else were speaking through him, but the military side of him, the commander with lives depending on his quick decisions, didn't think it was strange that he took care of the mission first.  
  
Heero paused, not liking the taste of failure. "Agreed," he said at last and sounded angry. "Permission to join with the forces if the rescue attempt is successful?"  
  
If. Milliardo gripped the edge of the console, fighting with rising alarm. "Yes," he replied tightly, "You have my permission."  
  
"You just made Heero a lot less pissed at me," Duo panted cheerfully. "Now, partner, if you don't mind trying to pull me up again?"  
  
It didn't make sense. Milliardo's mind clicked and he asked. "Are you injured, Maxwell?"  
  
"Yeah," Duo replied reluctantly. "Dislocated my arm and banged my knee damned good. Climbing is out. I can't get a grip on the rock or pull myself up. Stupid rain. It was a breeze until then. We could have been at the target and knocking back beers over their trashed computer system by the time you guys showed up."  
  
Milliardo didn't admit that he had formed several contingency plans in case Heero and Duo didn't make the target. Climbing was chancy at the best of times and Milliardo knew that well. Duo and Heero would have made infiltration quicker and cleaner, but Milliardo had been too experienced to count on it.  
  
Milliardo coordinated his troops, gave orders, and only then allowed himself to return to the life and death struggle on his monitors. "Progress?" he asked.  
  
"None," Duo panted and then to Heero. "I think you're going to have to cut me loose."  
  
"You know that I won't do that," Heero replied.  
  
"This whole dying together plan sucks, Heero!" Duo shouted. "Don't be stupid! Cut me loose and get your ass up this damned rock!"  
  
"The rope is secured," Heero told him. "We won't fall."  
  
"Then just leave me! The commander can have someone pick me up later!" Duo growled.  
  
"Unacceptable," Heero replied. "There are too many chances for something to go wrong."  
  
"You are not sitting here and waiting for the storm to either pick us off this rock or freeze us to death, and you are not going to make both of us die while you try and pull me up, Heero Yuy," Duo's voice shouted over the rain. "I'm cutting myself loose!"  
  
"God dammit, you will not!" Milliardo shouted with the full force of his lungs, his heart jumping to his throat as he stood and slammed hands against the console in panic and helplessness.  
  
Duo snorted. "Like you can stop me, sir? I think I have to disobey this one order."  
  
"You will not!" Milliardo shouted again and everyone in the transport stared, frozen at the uncharacteristic passion and panic in their commander's voice. "You will remain secure where you are and, as soon as the storm clears, I will send a rescue team to your position!"  
  
"No can do!" Duo retorted. "That could take hours... days. Like Heero said, things can happen. I can't take that chance!"  
  
"You will take that chance!" Milliardo thundered and his hands slammed against the console again.  
  
Duo wondered angrily, "Why are you ordering two men to die instead of one? Why should I listen to you?"  
  
"Because...," Milliardo faltered and then he said more strongly, "Because I have something to tell you."  
  
There was silence and then Duo's confused voice asked, "What?"  
  
"I have something to tell you. It's... It's important. You need to hear it." Milliardo swallowed uncomfortably, but he knew he was on the right track. He knew his men. He thought that he knew Duo Maxwell. The man's curiosity would, hopefully, be strong enough to-  
  
"You can't just tell me now?" Duo wondered and it was hard to tell whether he was being sarcastic or amused. "Is it worth risking Heero's life over?"  
  
Heero said, "Whether I live or die is not your decision, Duo, and it doesn't hinge on whether you decide to wait and hear what the commander has to tell you. If you try and cut yourself loose, I will attempt to save you by any means necessary."  
  
The hiss of the rain and the twirling visuals were all that Milliardo was left with for three agonizing minutes, and then Duo said, "Shit! You guys are a pair! Okay! I'll dangle here until we both either fall off this damned mountain or Zechs comes and picks our asses up!" There was another pause and then Milliardo barely caught Duo's last remark, "If we do make it out of here alive, I'm going to knock his and Heero's damned heads together!"  
  
"Noted," Milliardo retorted and then forced himself to ignore Duo's sputter of surprise as he returned to coordinating his troops and the all important mission.  
  
The placement of men was complicated. At first, Milliardo's eyes and ears kept switching between agent movements and the two men in peril, but then his military training took over and he became engrossed in the mission. He had to. Men counted on him and he had to give them his full attention no matter what the pain in the vicinity of his heart was telling him about one man. When he finally gave the order to move in after hours of long preparations, and enemy gunfire began to erupt, Milliardo became completely engaged in the effort to win the battle and keep his men alive.  
  
"Pinned down, corridor nine, section c!" A man shouted over the comlink. Milliardo saw a corridor full of troops in the visual. The men were crouched behind bullet proof shields as they tried to withstand the hail of gunfire aimed at them from further down the corridor.  
  
Milliardo noted the position of his other men and opened his mouth to send backup, but just then there was a familiar voice shouting. Milliardo's head whipped back around to look at the visual just in time to see the braid of Duo Maxwell flipping jauntily in the screen as the man dived over the shields, rolled, came up awkwardly on a bad leg, and then began firing a blast rifle in frantic bursts straight at the enemy troops at close range.   
  
"Whoooohoooo! Take that bad guys!" Duo shouted and he grinned as a return hail of bullets whizzed past every point of his body as he dived and rolled sideways along the floor. As he rolled, Heero Yuy came diving over the barrier as well, his own blast rifle firing into the men ahead of him. Distracted by Duo, and what they thought was a patent suicide attempt, the enemy troops weren't ready for Heero's attack. Milliardo watched in fascination as the young man moved with the fearless speed and grace of a panther as he leapt over Duo and kept on firing.  
  
The other agents shook off their surprise and surged forward, blast shields tossed aside as they began firing as well. The enemy, overwhelmed, surrendered, ran, or died under a hail of bullets. Milliardo blinked, came back to himself, and then began shouting orders as he took control of the situation again.   
  
"Regroup in section E," Milliardo ordered. "Join with Marus's team and clean out corridor eight. No more damned rebel tactics either, do I make myself clear? I want this operation by the book!"  
  
"Yes, sir," the team leader replied dutifully, but said aside to Heero with a relieved laugh. "Glad you could make the party, Yuy!"  
  
"Can't let you guys have all the fun!" Duo retorted as he stiffly stood up with Heero's help.  
  
"Hey, Maxwell! You're injured!" another man said suddenly. "Stay back with the medics and we'll finish mop up."  
  
"If I can limp, I can finish the operation," Duo chuckled. "I bet you crap out after a paper cut, Jack!"  
  
"Keep laughing, Maxwell, but let's see if you can keep up with my ass!"  
  
"I'll keep up with your ass, don't worry, but I didn't know you swung that way, Jack!"  
  
"Shut up, Maxwell! "  
  
The team leader snapped, "We have our orders! Both of you shut up and let's move out!"  
  
"Ready when you are," Duo replied.  
  
"Ready," Heero echoed.  
  
There were murmurs as other men voiced their readiness as well. Milliardo watched the visual move down the corridor to the next section and then he forced his attention back to the other units. How Duo and Heero had managed to get off of the mountain and into the target site was a complete mystery to Milliardo. That they had done it and were still ready to fight was astounding. During the war, he had underestimated the Gundam pilots time and time again. It seemed that he still hadn't learned not to do that.  
  
The enemy forces were quickly overwhelmed. Heero and Duo reached their operations core and shut down all of their systems, effectively making them blind and unable to coordinate against the attack on their installation. Milliardo stayed in his seat until the last resistance was put down and then he was rising stiffly and giving orders to his lieutenants. Once he was sure that everything was being taken care of, only then did he allowed himself to order the operations transport to the target site.  
  
Milliardo paced as the ship was enroute, his eyes and ears trained on one monitor and one comlink now. The visual wasn't moving. Milliardo could periodically see Heero's face and the faces of a few men, but, for the most part, Duo Maxwell was in an empty room and obviously sitting down. He was also uncharacteristically silent.  
  
Milliardo was out of the transport as soon as it set down, the heat of the engine blasting him and throwing his pale hair all about him as he drew his gun and cautiously entered the building with a few of his men as guards. It was still a potentially dangerous situation. I was possible to run into troops hiding from the main force.  
  
Men scrambled to greet him and give him reports. Milliardo listened and rattled off orders as his long legs took him swiftly through the corridors, his men trying to keep pace. When he reached the operations core, he was met by the nervous guns of Heero and the other men in the room. He noticed at once that Heero was soaking wet in a torn jacket and that his face looked worn, bruised, and haggard. Milliardo quickly looked past him and saw Duo seated in a large command chair. The man was slumped over the console, fast asleep, his braid wet and trailing the floor, the end resting in a small puddle of it's own making.  
  
"How is he?" Milliardo demanded as he moved to stand by the chair. Heero turned almost protectively, but then he seemed to make a conscious effort to relax and he holstered his gun and leaned wearily against another console.  
  
"He needs rest," Heero replied . "I put his arm back in the socket, but it will be out of commission for at least a week. His leg is bruised, but not fractured."  
  
Milliardo looked down at the pale, exhausted, and bruised face of Duo. The man's messy brown bangs were plastered to his skin and his clothes were soaked through. There was a bullet hole through the collar of his coat. Milliardo reached out and fingered it, a chill spearing through him as he realized how close that shot had come to Duo's jugular.  
  
"I want a full report," Milliardo said, dazed. "Get him to the medics."  
  
"Yes, sir," Heero replied and then said, "I suppose that Duo will have to wait to hear what you have to say to him."  
  
Milliardo looked at the dark, intense man sharply, thinking he was going to find a harsh judgment in his _expression, perhaps contempt that Milliardo had allowed his personal feelings for Duo to inter into a mission and a potentially deadly situation. Instead, he saw simple curiosity and an understanding there.  
  
"It can wait," Milliardo replied and motioned to several of his men. "See that he gets to the medics," he ordered them, but Heero stepped forward, shouldered them out of the way, and simply picked Duo up into his arms as if he were a child.   
  
As Heero headed for the doorway with his unconscious burden, he glanced aside at Milliardo and said, "Don't wait too long to tell him, sir. He is not a patient person."


	10. Bedside Manner

"You are to be commended, Commander Peacecraft."  
  
"Thank you, sir," Milliardo responded. "Credit goes to my men, of course. They all performed with excellence."  
  
Facing the four men across the long table, Milliardo tried not to fidget. He was dressed in a starched Preventer uniform and the collar was digging into his neck. He denied himself the luxury of pulling at it. His debriefing had stretched into two hours now while he had detailed the mission to the Preventer officials. They made few comments and asked many redundant questions, entering sporadic notes into their computer notebooks. Milliardo much preferred paper and pencil and he had both under one hand. His other hand was on the handle of a coffee mug. He brought it to his lips and sipped the steaming beverage, wondering when they would decide that enough information was enough. He had already uploaded all the pertinent information from the attack site. Being forced to face officials, and verbally give the same report, was an archaic holdover from earlier times.  
  
A heavy set, grizzled veteran shifted in his seat and frowned. Milliardo looked at him curiously. It was obvious that the man was bothered by something. He didn't take long to come to it. "This Duo Maxwell and Heero Yuy, the ex Gundam pilots...," the man began, his voice a low bass rumble. "You say that all of your men executed their orders with excellence, but I have to question that given the performance noted in your report."  
  
"If you look at their records, you will find that they both excel at special operations," Milliardo replied. "The circumstances that scrubbed their part of the operation were weather related. A man's performance can't be criticized when it is effected by the vagaries of nature."  
  
"They endangered the life of a transport platform vehicle pilot, and the copilot, by requesting them to perform a rescue operation with their vehicle. They didn't ask for orders from you when they did so," the man noted. "If you had required that vehicle in your operation, it wouldn't have been in position to carry out your orders."  
  
Milliardo felt his face grow hot and he willed it to stop. "I did not require that particular vehicle," he replied stiffly. "It had a hydraulics leak and couldn't deploy it's dust off ramp. It was headed back to base when Yuy contacted it."  
  
There was silence. The men sat, staring at their computer screens. A thin, gaunt looking officer suddenly speared Milliardo with hard, blue eyes. "In the report, it states that Yuy ignored hazardous conditions and ordered the vehicle to fly close to the rock face. The pilot's second, then climbed down a rescue rope, swung to Duo Maxwell, and secured a line to the injured man. All of this occurred in a low visibility situation. Once Agent Maxwell was pulled to safety, Agent Yuy...," the man paused as he read his screen in disbelief and then continued, "jumped from his position to the open hatchway of the transport and pulled himself inside. I credit the phenomenal piloting skills of the transport operator for averting what could have been a fatal disaster. Keeping a vehicle level, using only pulse jets and anti grav plates that were not meant for planet side use, in a rain storm with low visibility, is a feat I thought, until this incident, was completely impossible."  
  
"Special Operations Agent Noin was the pilot, sir," Milliardo replied. "She heard the chatter over the comlink and, since her part of the operation was completed, she replaced the pilot of the transport and flew it to initiate a rescue attempt."  
  
The man narrowed his eyes and his nostrils flared. "Without your orders," he pointed out angrily.  
  
"She is a ranking commander," Milliardo informed him. "Her part of the operation was under her command, not mine. Yuy informed her that a rescue attempt would only be successful if she flew close to the rock face. It was her command decision to do so and I am certain that she knew her own skill, her own abilities, when she made that decision. There is a chance for error in any operation, but Noin is not known for risking lives unnecessarily."  
  
"We will be discussing this with her," another officer commented without looking up.  
  
Milliardo sensed an impending dismissal. He said defensively, "Sirs, because of Noin's expertise and the efforts of Agents Yuy and Maxwell, the operation was completed quickly and with a greatly reduced loss of life. They personally saved an entire unit of my men from being pinned down and slaughtered. Their commandeering of the operations room of the target shut down all opposition to my forces. They should be commended, not censured."

Milliardo sensed condemnation, whatever the officers assured him. There was an air in the room that he had known during the war, an air of men making decisions in secret, of calculating and planning someone else's downfall. Heero and Duo's actions had been over the top in some instances, but the results, Milliardo had to admit, had been impressive.   
  
Milliardo wasn't given a chance to speak any further. He left the room and the men to their scheming. He knew from experience to be patient, to investigate the matter on his own, and to be ready for what ever attack those men chose to launch. Whatever they were planning, they were as restricted in their actions as he was. If they wanted to bring anyone under their heel, they were going to be forced to do it by the book.  
  
Milliardo was exhausted. His feet dragged and his body was sending alarms to his brain that he was on the edge of collapse. He had driven his body far past the strict limits set by the Preventer medics. It was begging him to rest now, demanding that he lay his responsibilities in someone else's lap and have someone take him home. Milliardo would have agreed wholeheartedly, but there was one duty that still needed doing, one duty that he refused to leave to anyone else.  
  
Milliardo entered the small medical unit within Preventer headquarters and looked about for someone who could find the one man who was keeping him from much needed rest.  
  
"Duo Maxwell...," Milliardo said as he reached out and stopped a medic from passing by him. "He was ordered to come here for treatment. Where is he now?"  
  
The man looked utterly annoyed. "Oh, that one! I was the one who treated him, sir. He was the most uncooperative young man I have ever had the misfortune to treat! His partner was the second. They allowed me to take xrays only. When I assured them that Agent Maxwell was all right, aside from some deep bruising and strained muscles, Agent Yuy announced that he was taking Agent Maxwell home and that he would treat him there."  
  
"Treat him?" Milliardo frowned. "But you just said that he was all right..."  
  
The man had a file folder in one hand. He slapped it against his thigh irritably. "Agent Maxwell was developing a fever. I wanted to take some tests, perhaps administer an anti viral, but they both suddenly acted as if they were both in the war and I was the enemy. They left here immediately afterward."  
  
"Was Agent Maxwell mobile?" Milliardo wondered.  
  
"Barely," The medic replied.  
  
Milliardo turned on his heel without a word, a hand wearily rubbing his suddenly aching head. As he left the medical section, Milliardo pulled out his cell phone and hit his speed dial. His frustration grew when no one answered the phone at the Yuy/Maxwell residence.  
  
"Damn you!" Milliardo growled and then dialed the garage. "I want a car and a driver at once," he ordered. "Have it waiting at the front of Headquarters. I will be there shortly."  
  
Milliardo fought his body's reluctance as he made his way down to street level. The car and driver were waiting. As the driver opened the back door of the sleek, black vehicle for him, Milliardo paused. Common sense told him that he was at the end of his strength. Common sense told him that it was time to go home and to deal with things after he had eaten and rested. Common sense, unfortunately, didn't have any sway where Milliardo's heart was concerned.  
  
"Sir?" the driver prompted in concern. "Is everything all right?"  
  
"Yes," Milliardo replied, steeled himself, and then ordered, "I have an errand to run before I return to my home. I need you to acquire Duo Maxwell's home address and to drive me there."   
  
It wasn't a long drive. Duo and Heero had an apartment near Headquarters and a room on the grounds for when they were training for missions. Now that the mission was over, Milliardo reasoned that they would return to the apartment.  
  
When the driver pulled up to the rather nondescript, five story building, Milliardo ordered him to wait with the car and went inside alone. Always a man of privilege, Milliardo was used to marbled columns and quiet, discrete servants. It was something new for him to tread cheap carpeting, walk down hallways smelling of odd scents, non of them very pleasant, see water stains and bare pipes on walls and ceilings, and hear the every day noises of many people living together under an uneasy truce of sorts. There was music from several apartments, the sounds of barking dogs, loud vid shows, talking, laughing, and even shouting.  
  
Without even knowing the apartment number, Milliardo could have guessed which one belong to Heero and Duo. They were soldiers. A soldier didn't lay his head down to sleep without knowing that there were several exits within easy reach. He found the Yuy/Maxwell apartment next to an emergency stair, an elevator, and, being on the top floor, Milliardo was certain that there would be an access to the roof, perhaps through a window or an access hatch nearby, as well.  
  
Self consciously, Milliardo knocked on the door. There was a spy hole. Milliardo felt that he was being studied, someone on the other side trying to define his intent, and then the door was opening cautiously. Heero was standing in the opening wearing a black pair of jeans and a white undershirt. He looked on the edge of collapse, his eyes dark shadowed and his face pinched and pale.  
  
"If you had left him with the medics, you could have slept and been in a better position to help him," Milliardo pointed out acidly.  
  
Heero frowned. "Duo wouldn't stay," he replied. "He threatened to leave on his own, sir."  
  
"The doctor informed me that he was running a fever," Milliardo said. "I should order him to return and stay for observation."  
  
Heero didn't reply to that and Milliardo felt a flash of anger. He had sensed before that his orders were obeyed only after approval, now it was confirmed by Heero's _expression. The man's jaw had tightened and it was clear from the suddenly obstinate look in his blue eyes that he was ready to do anything to let Duo have what he wanted, including leaving Milliardo's command.  
  
"I can't have men who won't follow my orders," Milliardo seethed.  
  
Heero finally replied, speaking carefully. "When it involves a mission, we will both follow your orders, sir, but the mission is over. Duo is entitled to make decisions involving his own care. He doesn't like being vulnerable and in a place full of men with uncertain motives and neither do I. It goes against our training."  
  
"Heero," Duo's soft voice came from behind the young man and a hand gripped Heero's shoulder, pulling him back. "You're not supposed to leave people we know standing outside. Let the Commander in."  
  
Heero looked back and they must have exchanged part of the conversation silently. Heero made a grunting noise and opened the door wider. He motioned inside with one hand. "Sir?"  
  
Milliardo stepped inside slowly, eyes immediately noting everything around him with a soldier's alertness . A comfortable, bluish/ gray, leather couch, a gray carpet with a silver sheen, walls painted a light blue dusted with silver, a large screen television, two computer terminals with a dizzying array of interconnecting hardware, a low coffee table seemingly made out of one chunk of metal, overstuffed, black chairs, and pictures of Gundam blueprints in metallic frames covering the walls, looked both tasteful and odd, odd in that Milliardo suspected that the color and material choices were supposed to make a person feel as if they were inside a ship or a machine of some sort.   
  
"So," Duo said, interrupting Milliardo's inspection. "Not as grand as your place, but I think Heero has a sense of style, don't you?"  
  
Milliardo started, incredulous, as he turned to look at Duo and Heero. He forgot all about the decor when he saw them standing together; a united front against him. There was an energy running between them that was so strong that Milliardo could almost see it. It spoke of a connection that Milliardo was finding hard to understand or accept. If they were telling the truth, and they weren't lovers, then how could such a strong bond exist? Milliardo's thoughts in that direction just stopped when Duo sighed and swayed a little on his feet.  
  
Duo was wearing a very large, loose, cotton shirt and a pair of shorts. His hair was in it's long braid, but strands were sticking out everywhere. It gave his bruised, weary face an almost lunatic appearance. His large, amethyst eyes did look fevered. They were too bright, too wide, as if he was struggling to stay alert. It was costing him to stand there and wait on Milliardo's pleasure.  
  
"Sit down," Milliardo told him simply, feeling the bite of guilt and embarrassment. As he watched Duo limp to the couch with difficulty, Heero's hand under his elbow. Milliardo saw the nest of blankets there and realized that Duo must have been resting on the couch when he had arrived. There were also several pill bottles on the coffee table and a glass of water near the blankets.  
  
What was he doing there? Milliardo wondered about himself. Why had he personally gone to their apartment? A call would have sufficed and an order to return to the medical section for treatment. They might have ignored that order, but it would have saved Milliardo some face not having it done in his presence. Now that he knew how things stood, there was only going to be a protracted awkwardness as he tried to extricate himself from the situation all together.  
  
"Make coffee, Heero," Duo said suddenly.  
  
Heero hesitated only briefly and then he was nodding and leaving the room to obey him. Duo motioned to one of the black chairs closest to him. "Sit down, sir. It's hard to stare up at you. My neck feels as sore as the rest of me."  
  
Milliardo sat down stiffly, as if he were facing a room of generals; straight, correct, and hands resting on the arms of the chair tensely.  
  
Duo fluffed a silver pillow, placed it against the corner of the couch, and leaned his body into it. Propping his chin on his hand and resting his elbow on the pillow, he stared at Milliardo with amusement.  
  
"Well, are you going to chew me out?" Duo asked. "Heero's busy, go ahead."  
  
Milliardo frowned. "I did not come here to 'chew you out'. I came here because I was concerned for your health and confused as to why you were refusing treatment."  
  
Duo sighed. "I could give you some very good reasons, and I will if you order me to, but it's very personal. I will tell you that I don't trust doctors and that I don't trust people I don't know with free reign while I can't defend myself. Is that good enough? If I really thought that I was going to die, I'd go back to medical. I'm not suicidal, k?"  
  
Milliardo thought of the mountain and Duo's willingness to cut himself loose and fall to his death to save Heero and at least part of the mission. "We're so used to death, Agent Maxwell," Milliardo said, "that sometimes we may not notice it when it's staring us in the eye."  
  
Duo digested that and then conceded. "That's true, but it's also true that I'm well aware of my own limits. It's just a fever, sir. I felt some of it coming on before the mission. Getting banged up and worn out just let it get a jump on me, that's all. I promise to stay in bed and let Heero take care of me." He raised a hand as if he were giving an oath and his eyes regained enough strength to sparkle.  
  
The awkwardness returned. Milliardo knew that it was time for him to go and that the embarrassment and discomfort of extricating himself couldn't be put off any longer. He tried to save some face by saying, "I'm going to question you about your decision to appropriate a transport vehicle for your rescue without informing me." He stood and added, "But that will wait until you are well enough to return to active duty."  
  
"Thanks," Duo replied. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes briefly. "Are you going to tell me what you wanted to say to me, or is that going to wait now too?"  
  
Milliardo felt his gut clench. There were a thousand ways of telling Duo, but none of them fit a moment like that one. Everything was wrong; the time, the place, their mood...   
  
"I think another time," Milliardo replied. "It will keep."  
  
"Will it?" Duo wondered, looking pensive. "During the war, we never thought that there WOULD be another time, so we never waited."  
  
Milliardo clenched and relaxed his hands at his sides.  
  
"Just say it," Duo told him. "Be spontaneous. Go on, I can take it. Do you want to get rid of me, pin a medal on me, make me your-"  
  
"Agent Maxwell..." Milliardo turned away, suddenly totally interested in the placement of the buttons on his coat. "I don't feel that this is the time to discuss anything."  
  
"You came all of this way, then, just to make sure that I was all right?" Duo wondered and there was nothing in his voice to give away what he was thinking.  
  
Milliardo had been raised a diplomat, every word coming from his lips thought through and politic, but he had also been the soldier Zechs Merquise for many years. That part of him chafed at his inability to tell Duo of his interest in him.  
  
"Yes," Milliardo replied at last and stopped himself from wincing. He tried to cover up his uncertainty by turning and looking for Heero. The man was taking far too long to make coffee. "I should go now, you need to rest. If the fever worsens, you will go back to medical and allow them to treat you. That is an order."  
  
"Yes, sir, but I told you I'd planned on doing that any way," Duo replied. "Tell me one thing before you go though."  
  
Milliardo looked back at him. Duo's head was cocked to one side, his eyes curious even though they were beginning to droop as his exhaustion began to take it's toll.  
  
"How do you date a Prince of the Sanq Kingdom?" Duo asked.  
  
Milliardo flushed. He turned away again, flustered. "Agent Maxwell, you seem to be making an assumption when I've not given you any reason to think that I wish to..." He said a few more things, things that he didn't recall as soon as he turned back to Duo and found him fast asleep on his pillow.  
  
He had a face like a mischievous elf, tangled bangs hanging in his bruised and pale face, a rounded shoulder, hard with muscle, but gentled under the soft cotton of his shirt, and a small, wiry body curled loosely under his blanket. Duo Maxwell looked like a normal young man, not like someone who had just completed a mission where he had been forced to kill people, not a Gundam pilot who had struck terror into Milliardo's forces, and nothing like a street child of L2 and all that entailed. Milliardo felt his heart clench and he felt like a fool. Just then, he felt more than capable of telling Duo that he was beginning to have feelings for him, that he wanted to get to know the young man better, and that he was willing to crush a half dozen rules in the Preventer handbook under his heel to do it.  
  
Milliardo reached out and carefully brushed the bangs from Duo's face. His fingers traced the line of a cheek and over a scar only his fingers, and not his eyes, could find. Milliardo drew his hand back reluctantly. It was his first touch, he realized, the first time that he had reached out to Duo as someone other than an aid or an agent to follow his orders.  
  
"Are you ready to go, sir?" Heero asked from behind him. Milliardo flinched and turned, angry and embarrassed to be caught off guard and ashamed to be caught touching the sleeping Duo.  
  
Milliardo frowned, recovering. "Yes, I'll go now."  
  
Heero's eyes were intense. They gave Milliardo the impression that, if he tried hard enough, he could cut gundanium with just a glare. "He knows now," Heero said simply, but those words weren't simple at all. They were both information and a warning.  
  
"He knows, " Milliardo repeated, feeling a burden settle on his shoulders. He hadn't said the words, but Duo had been very perceptive. Duo had divined Milliardo's feelings for him in the _expression on Milliardo's face and in his actions, his coming to their apartment to check on Duo's welfare. Heero was worried that Milliardo would try and backtrack, would try and deny Duo and how he felt, perhaps hurting Duo in the process.  
  
As Milliardo was escorted to the door, he felt the need to say something to reassure Heero, but as he said the words, he realized that he was reassuring himself as well and committing himself to a course of action that was irreversible. He asked, "How does one date Duo Maxwell?"


	11. Roses

Clarification of operation procedures and violations. Milliardo sighed and went over his carefully worded report for the tenth time. Hunched over it at his desk, his neck was bunching and throbbing with tension, and a pain was beginning to form between his eyes, threatening to blossom into a full blown headache. He rubbed at the back of his neck and heard something give a small popping sound.   
  
"What? Did you spray paint that dress on?" Duo's voice sounded from the secretaries' station. There was an embarrassed giggle. "I'm sure there's a regulation against it," Duo continued, "Section P, paragraph eight, subsection alpha; dresses will not be spray painted on Preventer personnel's bodies during working hours." There was another fit of giggles from the secretary and then Duo was coming into the office.   
  
Duo sauntered. He glowed. He exuded some power that made him the center of attention, as if everything else in the room ceased to exist as soon as he entered. Milliardo found himself smiling slightly in response to the cheerful grin bestowed upon him by the one time pilot of Deathscythe, even though he felt at a loss as to why Duo was in his office to begin with. He hadn't called the young man and hadn't, in fact, known that he had returned to active duty.   
  
"I gave you the week to recuperate," Milliardo said.   
  
Duo stopped and regarded him, leaning on one hand on the desk. He looked impish, a boy caught doing something naughty. "Heero wanted me to take advantage of it too, but I feel fine. I feel a lot of aches and pains from all the scrapes and bruises, but the shoulder's moving and my leg let's me walk. I hate sitting on the couch, doing nothing, so, here I am."   
  
"You were fevered," Milliardo pointed out and tried to look stern.   
  
"That was over with on the second day," Duo replied dismissively.   
  
Milliardo studied Duo intently, noting the bruises on his face and a hand taped with gauze bandages. He seemed all right, though, standing easily and looking relaxed. It would have been hypocritical of him, Milliardo realized, to dress down Duo for doing something that he had done himself and in far worse shape. "All right then," Milliardo conceded, "but I expect you to do only light duty until the medics examine and clear you."   
  
Duo grimaced. One hand smoothed down his long braid, draped over his chest and down his side, as if he needed its reassurance. "I spent a lot of years getting banged up and taking care of it myself, sir. I don't need a medic to tell me anything."   
  
"The exam is for my benefit," Milliardo replied sharply. "I'm not going to assign you to any sort of heavy duty until I'm certain that you are capable of doing it."   
  
Duo looked ready to argue, but then his mouth tightened into a thin line and it was obvious when he decided to let it slide for the moment. He relaxed again and smiled. "I really didn't come here to be assigned a duty, sir."   
  
Milliardo quirked a pale eyebrow at him. "What then?"   
  
Duo looked unsure of himself for a second and then he was shrugging and looking sheepish as he replied, "It's lunch time, sir. I know a nice, quiet place to eat that has great food. If you want to, I could take you there."   
  
Milliardo automatically looked down at all of the paperwork on his desk and then at the computer screen listing his full schedule. Duty before pleasure. People were waiting for his reports, his decisions, his direction. It would be completely irresponsibility for him to leave all of that undone, even for an hour. Milliardo searched for a way to politely decline. What came out, though, was something completely different than what his sense of duty was urging him to say. "All right. I'll call for transportation."   
  
Duo looked relieved and then eager. "Already taken care of, sir! If you'll come with me..."   
  
Duo was dressed in his Preventer uniform and Milliardo was dressed in a much more elaborate version, complete with a fitted coat and signs of his rank glittering at throat, shoulder, and wrist. The difference in their rank was very apparent. An official voice in the back of Milliardo's mind quoted the regulation against fraternization and the soldier in him told him how ridiculous it was to get involved with a man that he would surely have to send into combat situations. If he should hesitate to do that, or worse yet, get distracted or protective when it was necessary to order Duo into danger, there might be disastrous results.   
  
Looking into Duo's large, eager eyes, Milliardo lost the thread of his thoughts. He stared. After a moment, Duo blinked and smiled warmly. "Sir?"   
  
Milliardo came out of his self imposed trance. He groped for an excuse, "Damned headache," he mumbled in embarrassment as he began to rise stiffly from his chair, rubbing at the back of his neck.   
  
Duo came around the desk and his hands pressed lightly on Milliardo's arms with the respect for trained reflexes that one soldier gave to another. Milliardo had tensed at the suddenness of the move, but he found himself sitting down again regardless. Duo's hands slid up Milliardo's arms to his shoulders as he moved to stand at Milliardo's back. Leaning forward, he began to knead the muscles bunched painfully in Milliardo's neck and said cheerfully, "Relax, sir. I can take care of the headache for you, if you let me. I have enough of them myself. I know a trick or two."   
  
Duo's hands moved to part Milliardo's long hair and he brushed it forward over Milliardo's shoulders so that it was out of his way. Neck exposed, Milliardo felt a warmth spread throughout his body. It seemed a very intimate thing for Duo to have done, Milliardo thought, even as he told himself how ridiculous that was, especially considering how rough Duo's hands were as the young man massaged his muscles with iron hard fingers and callouses. When he dug thumbs into the muscles over Milliardos' collar bone, and squeezed with his fingers, the pain was shocking.   
  
"Give it a moment," Duo urged as Milliardo began to jerk away with an exclamation. "It's worth it."   
  
The pain built and built and Milliardo hissed between his teeth. When he was almost ready to demand that Duo stop, the pain suddenly lessened and then faded all together. Duo kneaded a bit more, gentler this time, and then his hands left Milliardo's neck. Before he felt the warmth of Duo's body step back from him, Milliardo felt a distinctive, lingering pressure on the back of his neck. Duo had kissed him.   
  
Milliardo felt a blush scald him and then he noticed that his headache and his muscle tension were gone. He grunted in amazement and said, "Thank you. That DID help."   
  
"You're welcome," Duo replied and looked pleased.   
  
Milliardo flipped his hair back and couldn't help touching the spot where Duo had kissed him. It came to him all at once that he had, not just given Duo thanks for the neck massage, but had also unknowingly shown his acceptance of Duo's kiss. He began to think of a way to retract it, to explain to Duo that he was still unsure about how things should progress between them. Duo was very intuitive. He seemed to suddenly suspect that he was about to receive some sort of rejection and he spoke before Milliardo could voice it.   
  
"How about that lunch now?"   
  
Milliardo blinked, put off balance. What he had been about to say seemed suddenly foolish. Duo was opting to pass off his action as if it hadn't happened, an unspoken apology to Milliardo for taking liberties. 'It was nothing', his tone had said, 'If you don't want it to mean anything.'   
  
Milliardo replied at last, "I think lunch is a good idea." He stood and gathered up a small briefcase, slipping several reports and his slim laptop computer into it.   
  
Duo looked dismayed. "You're not going to do work while we eat, are you?"   
  
Milliardo frowned, unapologetic as he explained, "I have my cell phone with me. There are several cases on going. I need information with me if the agents working those cases should happen to call." Milliardo felt the need to stress, "I'm ALWAYS on the job. There are many agents and civilians counting on me. That doesn't stop because I leave Preventer headquarters."   
  
Duo looked thoughtful and then said, "It must be lonely." When Milliardo frowned, stung, he continued soothingly, "I meant, that you've probably not run into a lot of people who understand that kind of dedication."   
  
"No, I haven't," Milliardo replied and felt a clenching in his gut, wondering if Duo was going to be yet another one, of the many, who wouldn't be able to understand the responsibilities that were on his shoulders and how they could often consume his life.   
  
"We should talk about that, and some other things; get to know each other better," Duo said and half turned towards the door. "If you're willing, of course."   
  
Milliardo paused, fought with his rigid control that bade him go slow, research the situation, and not make any snap decisions, and won enough to ask with a raised eyebrow, "Having lunch in a public place doesn't seem very good for personal conversations."   
  
Duo's lips quirked in a knowing smile. "But it is! It's neutral ground. It's not my place. It's not your place. It's not work. We don't have to defend our territory or keep up appearances. We can just sit back, be one of the crowd, and shoot the breeze over a hamburger and a coke."   
  
"Salad and a tea," Milliardo interjected wryly.   
  
Duo grinned. "Whatever you want, sir." He began to lead the way and then stopped and asked over his shoulder. "Can I call you something besides, sir, once we're outside of headquarters? Having to say 'sir' every other word doesn't help a guy have a relaxing conversation."   
  
"Milliardo," he replied, but not easily. Duo was blind siding him again, first the kiss and now a request to be on more intimate terms with their names. Duo was directing his steps onto the `relationship path' and Milliardo felt almost out of control, as if he were about to slide down a chute of no return. He teetered at the brink, reluctant still, unsure, and balking.   
  
"Milli?" Duo asked.   
  
Milliardo winced. "No." That was something women sometimes called him and Relena his sister. He'd always hated it. "You may call me Mil."   
  
"Mil," Duo repeated. "I like that. Thanks."   
  
Milliardo felt the need to ask, "And you, Duo is what you preferred to be called?"   
  
Duo's face clouded and his hand stroked his braid again. "Yes," he said shortly and Milliardo wondered if he had made him angry. Duo shrugged. "It's a made up name, and doesn't have the lineage yours does, I'm sure, but it's good enough for me."   
  
Milliardo heard an old pain in Duo's voice and saw some harsh memories in his eyes. Milliardo felt as if he had wounded Duo unintentionally, though he didn't understand how he had been able to. He felt the need to comfort Duo. It was an ache in his heart and Milliardo's inhibited inner voice couldn't stop him from reaching out and giving Duo's arm a small, reassuring caress. His fingers tingled at the contact. He saw Duo shiver and look at him gratefully, the smile coming back to his lips. "I'm sorry," was all that Milliardo could think to say.   
  
"So'kay," Duo drawled and then shrugged. "Memories suck. Let's leave them here and go get a bite to eat, okay?"   
  
"All right," Milliardo agreed and he followed Duo as the young man led the way from his office, unconsciously touching the back of his neck where Duo had kissed him.   
  
Duo's car was waiting at the front of Headquarters. It was a sleek, older model. It had some obvious wear, but it looked as if he had lovingly polished and buffed every inch of it. It was black and the shape reminded Milliardo of a spaceship built for speed; long and narrow at the front and widening at the back as if it could have supported some booster engines with a few modifications. The seats were leather and the instrument panels were a dizzying collection of dials, touch pads, and screens. As Milliardo slid into the passenger side, he couldn't help commenting. "What's the outbound speed?"   
  
Duo chuckled at the inference that the car could leave orbit. "I get bored while I'm driving and sometimes we have surveillance. When I have to spend hours and hours sitting in a car watching a suspect, I'd rather do it in my OWN car. I'm hooked up to Preventer databases and communications grids." He looked impish as he turned the car on and the engine purred to life. "I also have a neat collection of vid games."   
  
"I'm not surprised," Milliardo replied and wasn't sure why Duo suddenly looked worried.   
  
"What is it?" Milliardo wondered.   
  
Duo opened his mouth, closed it, and then went thoughtful as he pulled away from the curb. After a minute, he managed to say uncertainly, "I like to have some fun. It doesn't mean I'm immature."   
  
Milliardo understood then. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that you were. Knowing your past and your expertise, it would be foolish of me to think that you were immature."   
  
Duo looked as if he wanted to say something more, but then he shrugged. "We'll have time to talk about all of that later, right?"   
  
That implied a lot and Milliardo replied truthfully, "I have reservations and they are well founded, Duo."   
  
Duo sighed. His hands smoothed along the steering wheel and then he said, "You either like me or you don't, Mil. Which is it?"   
  
Milliardo winced at Duo's bluntness. The man was so impatient. Duo didn't want to wait for a slow development, a reasonable time for Milliardo to sort out just what it was he was feeling for the man sitting beside him.   
  
"I didn't look for this," Milliardo admitted. "It's too sudden, too soon... I'm not sure why this has even happened to me or what I'm really feeling." He didn't add, `I was interested in you, strongly, from the moment I first saw you and I can't stop thinking and caring about you.' That would have revealed too much before he was ready. He needed more time, whether Duo wanted to give it to him or not.   
  
Duo sighed again. "Well, I suppose the fact that you are sitting in my old car and trusting me enough to take you to lunch says a lot."   
  
Milliardo raised pale eyebrows. It did say something and he crossed his arms over his chest self consciously.   
  
Duo patted the dashboard of his car. "Boss here is a good car, but you're used to limos and taking tea at the club. I was surprised that you agreed to come."   
  
"Boss?" Milliardo repeated.   
  
Duo smiled sheepishly. "That's what I call my car." He laughed at Milliardo's _expression. "Maybe it isn't a mech or a space ship, but it's still mine to command."   
  
"You don't know me," Milliardo said defensively. "I lived rough as a soldier for many years. There weren't may opportunities for tea at the club during the war."   
  
Duo sobered. "I just thought..."   
  
"That I would shun a common soldier's pursuits?" Milliardo finished.   
  
"Common soldier...," Duo frowned now. "Doesn't that say a lot? I piloted a Gundam, but, at the end of the day, I still bunked with the soldiers, not the commanders." He glanced at Milliardo as he pulled into a parking space behind a plain looking building and put on the parking brake. "There's a big gap between us, Mil, and I can see why you aren't sure about crossing it."   
  
Milliardo frowned now too. "Are you calling me an elitist? The war is over , Duo. The class distinction that was in place before and during the war, doesn't exist any longer. I have the name of Prince, but that's a defunct title. I don't command anything by right of sovereignty."   
  
"That's a pretty picture you're painting, but the reality..." Duo shook his head. "People don't change those kinds of attitudes over night. You can see why I'm interested in you. That's a given. Why you are interested in me is hard for me to understand. When you feel like explaining it to me, let me know, okay?" He paused and then added carefully, "Some people do things because they are bored or jaded and they want a taste of the rough side of the tracks to spice things up. I have to warn you. If that's all this is, I'll kick your ass, commander or not."   
  
Duo turned off the car and, as the purring engine stopped, it left a numbing silence in its place. Milliardo replied at last, "I am wealthy. I am a prince. I do have political and social power. I have within my grasp a thousand contacts that could place you where ever you wished. If your interest in me is only mercenary; a means to further your ambitions, I will kick your ass as well, Duo Maxwell."   
  
Duo nodded solemnly and then he looked sideways at Milliardo, quirking an impish smile. " I noticed that white hair first, and then your blue eyes. I thought, 'Out of your league, Maxwell!', but I couldn't get you out of my head. I know we're very different from each other, but I think we're peanut butter and jelly rather than oil and water. I think, if we want, that we can go together really well. It sounds kind of stupid right now. I don't even know why you're making me so... well, and I don't know a lot about you, really. Maybe I should wait to say all of this stuff to you. Sounds kind of stupid to say it right now."   
  
Milliardo nodded, agreeing. "We have a past. It's ugly and violent. We were enemies. We both...," Milliardo blinked and found himself swallowing hard, almost overcome by a wave of remorse for his part in so much destruction. "We shouldn't even want to speak to one another. I fear that the past will not be forgotten as much as we would like to forget it, that it will make any of this impossible."   
  
"I was thinking that too," Duo admitted, but then he forced a smile and opened the door. "But, hey, this is just lunch, Mil. It doesn't have to mean anything but filling your stomach and then getting back to work, if you don't want it to. It'll be a good story for you to tell over drinks at your next party, how you got your kicks slumming with one of the common soldiers and-"   
  
"Don't!" Milliardo said sharply, beginning to hear some self condemnation in Duo's voice. "Things will end, here and now, if you believe that I am a person who would do something like that."   
  
"I don't," Duo assured him, embarrassed. "I just say stupid shit like that when I'm nervous or feel like I'm reaching too high."   
  
Milliardo stared, not certain how to respond, and then he glanced around them. The place that Duo had chosen for them to eat seemed popular. There were many people moving about the parking lot and going in and out of the doors of the plain building. He checked his watch. "I believe that we are here to eat and to talk while we dine. We are running out of time, Duo. I don't wish to miss this opportunity."   
  
Milliardo winced at his own wooden correctness, but Duo understood what he was trying to say. His smile returned and he visibly relaxed. Milliardo had just told him, in an albeit off handed manner, that he wanted to spend time with Duo as much as Duo wanted to spend time with him. Duo's feeling of inferiority bothered Milliardo though. They had enough hurdles to jump if they chose to pursue any type of relationship. While Milliardo did think that their difference in rank was a distinct problem, their social inequality was of no concern to him whatsoever. When the new government had encouraged the elimination of the old class system, Milliardo had embraced it without much thought. He had never felt comfortable with the title of Prince at any time. He much preferred Commander, a title he had earned, and the respect that came with that title, than the meaningless fealty to his bloodline.   
  
"Let's go then," Duo said and was obviously excited as he opened the door of the car and slipped out. As Milliardo joined him and they began walking towards the door of the building, Duo walked at Milliardo's elbow, looking up at Milliardo as he talked about the food that the place offered. Milliardo was taller than Duo and the difference was almost comical, Duo walking with a bounce in his step and looking very animated, almost boyish, while Milliardo paced with his usual cool and correct demeanor. Looking down, Milliardo stopped thinking `boy' when his eyes ran over Duo's strong shoulders, his broad, corded `climber's hands', and his body, which was, to his soldier's eyes, poised, graceful, and deadly. He was young, but Duo Maxwell was most definitely a man and a man to be reckoned with.   
  
"I can get a salad and tea?" Milliardo asked hopefully when Duo ended his list of fried and grilled fare.   
  
Duo looked Milliardo up and down with a smirk. "Yes, you can, Mil, but I think you need to put some weight on that lanky bod of yours. Order a steak and some cheese potatoes. They're terrific!"   
  
Milliardo began to retort and then noticed a man standing in the doorway of the restaurant, glaring. Duo saw Milliardo tense and he whipped about to look at the man as well, his hand slipping under his Preventer uniform coat to take the safety off of his weapon. Automatically, he stepped in front of Milliardo to confront the man first. Milliardo was used to bodyguards. He almost didn't think anything of Duo's action, but suddenly, it irritated him. An angry thought surfaced as he tried to divine what, if anything, the man at the door intended to do. Milliardo wondered if Duo thought that he wasn't capable of defending himself, that he was some sort of coddled aristocrat who had never trained for or seen battle outside of a mech or a ship.   
  
The man, in the end, did nothing. They passed him in defensive mode and then entered the restaurant, Duo keeping an eye on the man while Milliardo scanned the large, crowded room for danger. He almost suggested that they leave. He didn't relish a meal where he felt threatened, but then he shrugged off his concerns. He was notorious and hated by a good many people, and for good reason. He couldn't turn tail and run, he thought, every time he encountered someone who couldn't forget the past, or what he had tried to do to the Earth. There were too many of them for that.   
  
Milliardo chose an open table, by an exit door, along a wall where they could sit facing in apposite directions. It allowed them to keep an eye on all points of the room. They sat gingerly, both of them nervous, but both determined not to abandon their lunch and their talk with one another.   
  
"Do you think that clown was mad at you or me?" Duo wondered and his voice made it sound as if he considered the incident humorous. Milliardo knew better.   
  
"There are many people who consider the Gundam Pilots heroes," Milliardo pointed out. "There are few who forgive me or understand why I..." He paused. It was still hard to say it, to admit to his crimes.   
  
Duo shook his head. "Don't! We aren't ready for that yet. We just came here for a little talk, not a rehashing of something like that, Mil."   
  
"What use is small talk when that hangs over our heads?" Milliardo wondered despondently. "If you or I can't face the past that we both share, if you can't hear about the things that I did, that I tried to do, then this is all useless."   
  
Duo took a menu from a holder on the table and passed it to Milliardo as he said, "If I told you what I think about all of that, you wouldn't believe me because you don't know me, Mil. Maybe we won't make it. Maybe our pasts will be too much of a wall between us, one that we won't be able to climb over. Let's not try to, though, until we are `mission ready', all right? Let's have all the facts, all the particulars, to help us beforehand."   
  
Milliardo stared. He had to stop thinking of Duo as the simple clown that he liked to portray himself as. The man had things that ran deep and he had a wisdom born of his experiences. Maybe he was right in that they might never be able to accept each other's past, but he was also right that they couldn't stumble head long into trying to answer that question blind of important details.   
  
The waitress appeared and Milliardo and Duo ordered. Milliardo asked for his salad and tea and Duo asked for potatoes covered in cheese, a grilled hamburger, and a soda. After she had gone, Milliardo looked across the table at Duo and found the young man staring back at him hopefully.   
  
"So," Milliardo began as he sat back and unbuttoned the top buttons of his uniform jacket. "Do you come here often?"   
  
Duo smiled cheerfully. "Yes, yes I do."


	12. Thorns

Milliardo eyed the tower of tableware and condiment holders in trepidation. Duo was talking animatedly, his hands gesturing even as he grabbed a hold of whatever was in reach and added it to his tower. Milliardo was sharply reminded that Duo was a pilot, his hand eye coordination, and sense of balance, perfect even when accomplishing such a strange pastime.  
  
"So, there we were, me and Heero, fresh out of a war, and not one idea between us about what we were going to do," Duo was saying. "The government wanted to forget about us and, after the celebrations and award ceremonies, so did most everyone else. We were broke, clueless how to do the simplest things that constituted the daily grind for most people, and pretty unwilling to fall back on our skills to provide us with what we needed. Sure, either one of us could have hacked a system and dumped a fortune into our accounts, or forged the papers necessary to get us any job we wanted, but... I guess we wanted a fresh start, a chance to prove that we could be something other than killers. " Duo's mouth quirked self deprecatingly. "Didn't work, mostly. We have our reputations, just like you, and interviewing for a regular paying job usually started and ended with, 'What makes you think our company needs a terrorist on the payroll?' or 'I don't think we need anyone to pilot a Gundam here, sir.' Nobody believed that we could be anything but soldiers and, after a few 'incidences' and 'failures', me and Heero began to think so too. The Preventers seemed the logical choice. Too bad your sister, Relena, pulled rank and had Heero assigned to her guard detail right away. Heero had thought that he was helping us out by accepting the assignment, even though neither of us had really liked it. We had bills to pay, though, and we both liked eating on a regular basis."  
  
Milliardo knew the story after that and knew why Duo didn't continue with it. "I'm sorry," Milliardo said, not knowing what else to say to break up the long silence.  
  
Duo shrugged, though his face had grown pensive. "Who the hell can see the future? It wasn't anyone's fault, what happened, except maybe mine for not watching my own back." Another pause and then he quirked a smile and brightened, his eyes sparkling as he looked past his tower to Milliardo. The sudden change in mood startled Milliardo. He had seen it before, that mental trick of Duo's that seemed to allow him to turn his memories and moods on and off at will.  
  
"Your turn," Duo said simply.  
  
Milliardo stared. They had long ago eaten their lunch, the empty plates set aside. The food had been good, just as Duo had promised. Milliardo had ordered only a salad and tea, but Duo's hamburger had been large and Duo had convinced him to try a few bites. Duo had also coaxed Milliardo into trying his cheesy potatoes. Milliardo had enjoyed them so much that he had eaten half of the serving, though most of the enjoyment had come from watching Duo eat his share. The potatoes had been long and fat and the cheese sauce had been thick and gooey. Watching Duo put a potato into his mouth, suck the cheese off expertly with relish, and then suck the potato into his mouth to eat it, had made Milliardo's pants uncomfortably tight.  
  
Milliardo glanced at his watch. "We need to get back," he replied nervously.  
  
Duo gave him a long, searching look. "If you aren't willing to talk, if you don't want me to know anything about you, then we don't have anything between us."  
  
Milliardo looked at Duo's too wise face. "Have you dated so much that you know that for a fact?"  
  
Duo looked uncomfortable and his eyes left Milliardo and stared with concentration at his tower. "I'm not a virgin hermit, if that's what you want to know, but I haven't dated a lot either. When you live on the street, when you have to depend on people to watch your back, you learn who you can trust and who you can't. Guys who never say anything about themselves are usually the ones you have to watch out for. They're hiding something or doing something wrong that they don't want you to know about. Usually, the thing they are hiding, is that they're just using you."  
  
Milliardo's jaw clenched and then released. He let out a long breath and then said, "After the war, I thought that it would be best if I stayed far away from Earth. I went to Mars colony with Noin. She had hopes for me, and I have to admit that I didn't disillusion her by telling her my true nature. I needed someone to be with me. I really couldn't face being alone, even though I knew I deserved that, and more, after what..." Milliardo swallowed. "Well, Noin soon discovered that we were not going to become a couple in any sense. We separated and I returned to Earth and the Sanq kingdom. Relena was a good sister to me and she provided me with a place of my own. Little by little, I ventured out of my self imposed solitude to test the mood of the people. I didn't find forgiveness, but I did, finally, sense that I wasn't going to be executed by angry mobs. I was tolerated, for my position and relationship with Relena for the most part. When Sally Po came to the Sanq Kingdom to inspect security for Relena, she took me aside and spoke with me about joining the Preventers. I was more than eager. Being 'tolerated' in one's own homeland is not a pleasant experience."  
  
Duo nodded, head cocked a little to one side. He had stopped stacking and Milliardo noted that placing another object on the tower would have definitely made it tumble. Duo peered at Milliardo from behind its shelter as if he were finding comfort in it, and Milliardo found himself wishing for a tower of his own. He wasn't the type of man to air his life in a public place, or to reveal it to people even in private, for that matter. He had certainly never told anyone how he had felt about his treatment by the people of his own country. He suspected that he had never talked about it before, because he couldn't help feeling that he didn't have the right to complain about any treatment he received.  
  
"Thank you," Duo said softly.  
  
Milliardo was confused.  
  
"For trusting me," Duo clarified and smiled.   
  
Milliardo met his eyes steadily. "I think that you've more than proven to me that I can. You have a strong sense of duty and honor."  
  
Duo's mouth quirked. "So do you. Maybe that's what draws us together? We have very different backgrounds, but we both give every ounce of ourselves for what we believe in."  
  
Milliardo nodded. "I did find it... strange that I was drawn to you. We do seem so different. My reluctance to become involved had a great deal to do with my confusion on that matter."  
  
Duo sipped his soda and looked at Milliardo over the rim of his glass. His eyes were clearly saying, 'That's not all and you know it.' but he refrained from saying it. They had found common ground and Duo wasn't about to make it a quagmire by delving deeper than they were ready for.  
  
Duo's cell phone beeped. He pulled it out of his pocket with a sigh and said without asking who was on the other end of the call, "We're just about to leave, Heero. Relax." He listened for a moment and then smiled softly, "I know. I know. I'll be careful. You know Mil will be watching my back. I know you trust him, so, be patient and make sure you eat YOUR lunch. I don't wanna hear your stomach growling for the rest of the day." Another pause and then Duo chuckled and hung up his phone. He looked up at Milliardo apologetically. "I hope that you want to get used to that?"  
  
"Having Heero Yuy as your shadow?" Milliardo clarified and couldn't help feeling a sharp pang of jealousy. Duo's _expression had been so warm and... loving? Milliardo didn't want to think that last, but he couldn't help it.  
  
Duo's smile faded and he suddenly looked pensive as he said, "Our close relationship pretty much sunk all the efforts I made to have a love life. It's hard for people to understand." He looked at Milliardo closely, trying to guess what he was thinking. "I know that look," he said at last. He stirred his soda with his straw and then let it go abruptly. "Maybe we should get back?"  
  
"Why aren't you lovers?" Milliardo asked bluntly, wanting to know, wanting it plain between them. "You are so close. You live together. You work together. You don't like to be out of each other's sight. I see your _expression when you talk to him. What keeps you from taking the last step? Why should I not think that your closeness to another man won't compromise what ever relationship we attempt?"  
  
Duo had been in the process of rising from his seat. He sat down again with a thump and lifted one cinnamon eyebrow. "Just when I think you're shy... Okay, you want it straight? Me and Heero tried, okay? We climbed into bed with each other and both of us had our first time together. We screwed for about a week and then realized that that's all it was going to be, just screwing. He didn't enjoy it. He didn't want it. He didn't find me a turn on. I was a complete turn off sexually. Once we sorted out that two guys CAN be that close and NOT want to be lovers, we ended up where we are right now. We are the closest of friends, end of story. Heero is NOT your competition and never will be."  
  
Milliardo digested those words and found more questions that needed answers. Like Duo though, he refrained. They couldn't work through everything in one hour in a restaurant. "I understand," Milliardo said and it sounded like an inadequate, and a somewhat disingenuous, response, but Duo seemed willing to accept it for what it was.  
  
Duo tossed some credits onto the table for the tip and the bill and stood up, stretching and smiling again. "I feel like I've had a work out."  
  
Milliardo replaced some of the credits with his own and slid half of Duo's back to him. Duo took them with a chuckle, saying, "I could argue, since I'm the one that suggested this place, but I think I've figured out that we're both stubborn. It might make us late. "  
  
Milliardo smiled, some of the tension leaving him. Duo's humor was always good for that. It was a true gift, Milliardo thought. It was then that he saw a man standing at the open front door suddenly turn and leave. Milliardo's tension instantly returned, his soldier's senses going on the alert, even as his mind tried to reason with it. This wasn't the war, it said, he didn't need to be suspicious of every one. Milliardo Peacecraft and an ex Gundam pilot were worth a few stares. He should have been used to it.  
  
"You saw him too?" Duo asked under his breath and Milliardo looked down into Duo's concerned eyes.  
  
"Yes," Milliardo replied, "but we shouldn't be so suspicious."  
  
"Don't let Heero ever hear you say that," Duo warned and it was only half a joke. "We aren't like everyone else and you know it. We have to be careful."  
  
"He may have been a reporter," Milliardo suggested. "I think someone would pay good money to know that the brother of Relena Peacecraft had gone to a simple restaurant with a young man." He studied Duo as Duo realized the implications of that, the potential of having his picture plastered and labeled with unflattering gossip on every newsstand. "I hope that you can get used to that?" Milliardo asked, repeating Duo's words to him.  
  
Duo didn't answer immediately and that let Milliardo know that his reply wasn't a reflexive denial. "I used to feel sorry for Trowa," Duo said, "I've seen his face on the front of a few papers, because of his relationship with Quatre Winner. I always wondered how I'd handle it. I guess I'm going to find out." It was an admission of how much he was interested in Milliardo and Milliardo felt a sudden warmth, an affirmation that his own interest wasn't in vain.  
  
"Just in case he turns out NOT to be a reporter, and he wants our livers raw," Duo said with a humorous wrinkle of his nose, "I'll stay left and you stay right."  
  
Milliardo nodded, understanding. Duo wanted to be certain that they knew each other's positions to avoid accidentally hurting each other if they suddenly found themselves attacked. At that moment, Milliardo was hoping that it was just a nosy reporter with a vid camera. He didn't want that moment to be marred by violence and, he thought at a deeper level, he didn't want Heero's trust in him, his willingness to allow Duo out of his sight to go with him, to turn out to be a mistake. Milliardo didn't relish pursuing any relationship with Duo under the intense blue eyes of that man.   
  
A clear shot to the car, that's all Milliardo wished for as they went through the door of the restaurant. He tensed when he saw a van parked beside it, blocking it neatly from view. There was a wall on the other side of the car as well. A perfect screen to keep anyone from seeing if-  
  
"I know," Duo said self deprecatingly. "I shouldn't have parked near the wall. I know better. It's too easy to block a car in that position."  
  
Milliardo replied, his eyes scanning the parking lot, "This is peacetime. You are supposed to be free of having to think about such things."  
  
Duo looked up at him and gave a snort. "I think the only real 'peace' is in heaven, Mil, and I'm not ready to die just yet to have it, so I'll kick myself instead and promise to be more paranoid next time."  
  
"We could call for a cab and avoid this," Milliardo offered.  
  
Duo laughed, "We're the police, Mil. If there is going to be trouble-"  
  
"If we are going to be the cause of that trouble, then we should stop it before it starts," Milliardo pointed out. "That's part of our jobs as well."  
  
Duo's _expression firmed and he suddenly went from being a 'date' to being a Preventer agent in a heartbeat. It told Milliardo that he was taking the situation at a worse case scenario. "Your orders, sir?"  
  
Milliardo reached under his coat and took off the safety on his gun. He raised eyebrows as Duo checked two places on his own body and then touched his wrists, letting Milliardo know that he carried knives as well under his long sleeved uniform.  
  
"If we are going to be attacked, then they are already watching us," Milliardo said. "Tactics would be useless."  
  
"Frontal assault?" Duo wondered without a hint of fear.   
  
"Yes, but we still need to catch them off guard," Milliardo replied. "I want you to loudly reassure me that I'm being paranoid and act the fool as we walk up to your car. Walk wide of the van. Keep several paces from me and slightly ahead so that you have a clear shot."  
  
"Roger that," Duo said without question. "Any other orders?"  
  
Milliardo checked his watch and replied sourly, "I don't want to be late for work."  
  
Duo laughed. "Roger that too, sir."  
  
"Go, Maxwell," Milliardo ordered briskly and made a move as if he were returning to the restaurant.  
  
"Oh, come on, Mil!" Duo said loudly. "You are such a worry wart! This is peacetime! We're as safe as a ship in dry dock! If you keep worrying like this, you're gonna die young man! You gotta relax like me and have some fun!"  
  
Milliardo turned, still looking reluctant, and it wasn't all faked.  
  
"Mil!" Duo drawled. "Come on! We're gonna be late and Sally Po's gonna chew us out! Nothing's wrong!"  
  
Duo was grinning and waving for Milliardo to follow him. He looked and sounded like a fool, playing his part with his usual outgoing flair. Milliardo made a show of giving in and following him, his mind working on a dozen different outcomes and backup strategies, as they made their way across the parking lot.  
  
"I told you that they had good food," Duo was saying as he moved to the left, covering up the action with the hyper gesturing of his hands and his attempts to turn and look at Milliardo as he talked. "You have to try the ribs next time though. The spices they use are just the best and the meat just melts in your mouth! Frankie in the kitchen, he's a good friend of mine, he'll treat you right if I tell him too. It'll be the best you have ever had!"  
  
Milliardo couldn't hold up his end of the conversation, so he nodded to whatever Duo was saying, and hoped that it was enough. His heart was thudding in his chest as they approached the van. Instinct told him that he was right, that it was a trap, and one he knew he had to trip in order to take the perpetrators into custody. Knowing what his duty was, though, and putting Duo into harm's way, was turning out to be harder than Milliardo imagined. Milliardo's heart was arguing with his head and trying to force him to stop and to tell Duo that they needed to avoid the confrontation. His head had ample ammunition to counter it. Milliardo knew that if they didn't trip the trap, some unsuspecting citizen might. If someone was waiting on a hair trigger on the other side of that van, then it was possible that they would shoot at any target that presented itself. Milliardo couldn't let that happen.  
  
The logic of that argument should have been enough to silence Milliardo's reluctance, but it didn't. As he watched Duo slip hands under his uniform and pull out his guns, preparing to be the first to enter the line of fire, Milliardo felt a chill travel up his spine. When Duo grinned and winked at him, his face flushed with the thrill of action, and stepped past the van, it was all Milliardo could do not to reach out and make him stop.  
  
Milliardo was three steps behind Duo, knowing that he had to give the man room to fire and to avoid whatever was on the other side of the van. That precaution proved well founded when they were attacked instantly. Duo was able to duck easily without tangling with Milliardo and avoid a long board that cut the air where his head had been. Milliardo stumbled back to avoid the same board as it followed through in it's deadly arc.  
  
"You're going down, you and that murdering bastard!" a voice shouted. Milliardo saw a burly man, with his face twisted in an _expression of pure hate, rush Duo, but Duo was already straightening from his crouch. He kicked out, sinking his booted foot into his attacker. That man fell, and Duo aimed his two guns at the group of men standing just past their fallen comrade.  
  
"Freeze!" Duo shouted. "One move and I'll-"  
  
The men rushed forward. Milliardo saw an _expression on Duo's face, a moment where he lost it, perhaps going back in time to that other place, that other confrontation where he had been beaten and tortured almost to death. Duo took a shuddering breath and then fired his guns.   
  
Milliardo gritted his teeth in trepidation as he aimed along the barrel of his own gun, but then noted with relief that Duo's bullets had struck legs and arms and not vital organs. The young man was in control of himself. This wasn't going to be a massacre.  
  
Milliardo fired his own gun twice before he realized that the men weren't going to stop. That startled Milliardo. He had thought that they would either panic and run or give up at the first blaze of gun fire. When he saw the pure hate for him in their eyes, Milliardo understood then. Their hatred for him was so great that they were willing to die to reach him.  
  
"Sir?!" Duo shouted, asking to use deadly force.  
  
"No!" Milliardo shouted back and that was all that he could manage to say before he was forced to holster his gun and defend himself. Their attackers weren't trained or well armed. All were dressed in the blue uniform of government service workers. As Milliardo took his man down with a sweep of one arm, to deflect the man's fist, and a hard karate kick to the man's genitals, he surmised that the man who had glared at them in the restaurant doorway had gone back to his place of work and rounded up these men, bringing them back and setting up his trap. What they had in common, why so many men who worked at the same job had such an intense hatred of Milliardo, was something he needed to investigate later.  
  
Milliardo took out another man, slamming the heel of his hand up under the man's chin. That man dropped, unconscious, but the other men stepped over him and kept advancing. Milliardo dropped back a few steps to position himself for a defense, but just then, Duo came rushing by him. The small, wiry man was a devastating whirlwind. His feet landed bone crunching blows into their attackers. He spun and jumped, as if he were on springs, to chop and punch at them. The men fell, blood splattering and cries filling the air. Soon, there was no one standing but Milliardo and Duo.   
  
Duo pulled out his cell phone then and called for a police patrol. He and Milliardo waited for them to arrive, alert and weapons ready, making certain that the wounded men didn't try and renew the fight. When the patrol arrived, shocked at the damage and amazed that two lone men had caused it, it was Milliardo's reputation and rank that made quick work of the arrest and allowed Duo and himself to leave the scene without wading through reports and paperwork.   
  
Driving back to headquarters, Milliardo knew that they were both still on an adrenalin high. Looking over at Duo in the driver's seat, Milliardo could see that Duo's color was up and that his eyes were sparkling. He was grinning and, at that moment, he looked wild and passionate. Milliardo knew that the echo of it was in his own face.  
  
When Duo glanced at Milliardo, the young man's smile turned warm and affectionate. It was almost the same smile that he had given to Heero when he had talked on the phone with the man, but it ran much deeper than that, much warmer. Milliardo had a feeling, perhaps sensing some excitement and uncertainty in Duo, that he had never given that particular smile to anyone else.  
  
Duo pulled into the parking garage of Preventer Headquarters and found a parking space. Turning off the engine, he turned to Milliardo and began to say something. Without thought, Milliardo reached out and hooked a hand behind Duo's neck. His fingers felt the soft nape of Duo's cinnamon colored hair as he pulled Duo to him. Their lips met and it felt like being struck by lightning, a force so strong that Milliardo felt as if it were searing him to the bone, as he hungrily plundered Duo's mouth with his own.  
  
Duo hung in his grip and Milliardo felt him tremble, but Duo's arm slid around Milliardo's waist and pulled him closer, giving Milliardo his permission to continue. The kiss seemed to last an eternity and neither one of them, it seemed, wanted it to end. For once, Milliardo didn't consider consequences. He let the future twist in the breeze as he discovered the other half of his soul in Duo Maxwell. Before that moment, Milliardo would have scoffed at such a patently ridiculous notion, but nothing else adequately explained the powerful feeling he was having just then.  
  
Milliardo broke the kiss at last and stared into Duo's eyes. They were soft wells of amethyst and they searched Milliardo's blue eyes for something, Duo's expression very serious. "I think...," Duo said in a whisper, "that I've fallen hard for you, Mil."  
  
Milliardo knew what Duo wanted, knew what he was searching for. Milliardo replied in the same whisper, as if it were a great secret between them, "That's good, because I feel the same way about you, Duo."


	13. Dancing

What was the next step? Milliardo wondered as he finished up for the day, packed his laptop and papers into his briefcase, and said goodbye to his secretary. The kiss that he had shared with Duo was still on his mind, the feel of Duo's firm, warm lips beneath his and the taste of the young man when he had searched Duo's mouth with his tongue. Duo's bright eyes and obvious enthusiasm had asked for more, had asked for Milliardo to take the next step. Milliardo had appreciated that. He needed to be the one to make the decision, to decide how to, or if, to proceed.  
  
Milliardo's mouth quirked ruefully. There wasn't any `if' anymore, he knew. There was only the `how'' and that was difficult enough. He wasn't just anyone. Duo, for that matter, wasn't just anyone either. They had reputations and duties and, Milliardo thought, he had a position that called for him to be beyond reproach. He was in command. He had to have the respect and the unconditional trust of the people under him. If he was going to try and have a relationship with an ex Gundam pilot subordinate, he had to be discrete about it.  
  
Milliardo had forgotten himself in the parking garage, but no one had witnessed his lapse. Milliardo didn't intend for that to happen again. There had to be ground rules, number one being that their relationship did not exist once they entered Preventer Headquarters. He was certain that Duo was enough of a professional to understand.  
  
Milliardo recalled his other, brief love affairs, only he wasn't willing to use the word `love' any longer when describing them even to himself. There had been a close friendship in one case, and simple desire in the others. Those affairs had been covert trysts in out of the way lodges and hotel rooms, none the wiser and no commitments made on either side. It was almost as if they had been ashamed, Milliardo thought, especially during the war. There had always been a feeling of guilt associated with self indulgence, a sense that it was wrong when one was commanding men into battle to maybe die. Besides, he thought, commanders were supposed to be completely dedicated, or at least seem so.  
  
That he was intending to pursue a young man wasn't the taboo that it had been in the past, but there were some that still looked down on it and thought of it as something that was below decency, something one didn't bring up in polite society. Milliardo would have liked to say that he didn't care about people who thought like that, but he had his sister, Relena, to think about. What he did reflected on her. Her government was still new and tenuous. Her good name was of utmost importance. Scandal of any kind, even if it was in the minds of small minded men, had to be avoided. Milliardo tried to imagine Duo being discrete and suddenly had an alarming blank where that image should have formed. Milliardo found his steps turning quickly from the hall leading to the parking garage to the section where the agent's did their work instead. A picture was forming and it was a highly disturbing one, Milliardo thought, one of an over excited Duo talking about his experience in the garage to anyone who would listen. It was imperative, Milliardo thought anxiously, that he talk to Duo to stop that scenario from becoming a reality.  
  
Milliardo found the main office empty except for one a harried individual; an older man in the uniform of a division captain. Hunkered over paperwork, and chewing viciously on the end of a computer stylus, the man glared at a computer screen.  
  
"What the hell do you want?!" the man exploded without looking up, only knowing that someone had dared disturb him.  
  
Milliardo frowned, but he was used to the rough personalities of field agents. He waited silently until the man looked up in annoyance. When he saw who was standing by his desk, the Captain's stylus dropped out of his mouth and he stood up quickly. "Sorry, sir!" he said quickly.  
  
Milliardo cut off any more apologies by asking abruptly, "I'm here to speak with Agent Duo Maxwell. Please page him to this office. There are parts of a report that I need to discuss with him."  
  
The man blinked, probably wondering why his commander had decided to bring his request to his office instead of Milliardo's own. His answer wasn't much to Milliardo's liking. "He's left for the day, sir, along with his partner, Heero Yuy."  
  
Milliardo scowled. "Why?"  
  
The captain was suddenly on the defensive and it was plain that he was finding it hard to think of an appropriate response. Finally, he gave up trying to find a reasonable sounding explanation and said, "Duo Maxwell saw action today, sir. He had to take Heero Yuy home. The man becomes highly stressed when Duo Maxwell sees action of any kind without his presence. It usually only takes a day of down time to calm him down and have him ready for duty again, sir."  
  
The commander in Milliardo bristled and thought, `unacceptable liability'. Two men who couldn't work apart from each other, and who completely depended on one another for their emotional stability, shouldn't have been allowed to be agents. If they had been any other men, if they hadn't had the training that set them head and shoulders above all other agents, Milliardo would have given them both their walking papers.  
  
"Thank you," Milliardo replied and walked out of the stunned and confused captain's office. The man had expected a reprimand, Milliardo was sure, and was finding it hard to believe that Milliardo was accepting his explanation. Milliardo wasn't accepting it though. He was enough of a professional to know that the captain didn't have any of the answers to his numerous questions. The people who did have those answers were Duo and Heero.  
  
As Milliardo walked towards the front of the building, he called on his cell phone for his driver. Meeting the man and the vehicle outside, Milliardo slipped into the back seat. Safe from prying eyes and ears, he took out his cell phone once more and then began to make another call, one to Duo Maxwell.  
  
Duo answered the phone, sounding tired.  
  
"Milliardo here," Milliardo said curtly. "I was informed that Heero Yuy left for the day. I fail to understand the reasoning behind his action. As his commanding officer-"  
  
"Did you speak with the Captain?" Duo asked and sounded irritable.  
  
"Yes, I did," Milliardo replied and felt irritation himself. "His explanation was less than satisfactory. I wish to speak to Yuy directly."  
  
"I'm sorry, sir, but Heero can't come to the phone." Duo sounded cold now, and professional. "Heero needs to have a day of down time. It was cleared by the Captain."  
  
"As your commander, I need to know all of the strengths and weaknesses of those under my command," Milliardo persisted. " If Yuy is experiencing mental difficulties pertaining to your seeing action of any kind I-," Milliardo stopped, knowing that he was speaking to the wrong person. "I demand to speak to agent Yuy at once."  
  
There was a long pause and then Duo replied, "I understand your concern, but Heero can't talk to you right now. I'll tell him that you want to meet with him tomorrow."  
  
Milliardo seethed. "Perhaps you did not understand that I was giving you an order."  
  
Duo exploded so suddenly that Milliardo started and almost dropped the phone. "Heero is drugged, okay?! It's the only thing that would calm him down. He thought that he had failed me again. He thought that he should have been there to protect me. Can't you understand that? The last time it happened, I was tortured! I almost died! He saw what they left of me! He was with me the whole time while I recovered. Don't you get what a guilt trip he carries around inside of him? Give him a damn day to get his head back on straight and I promise he will be all right in the morning!"  
  
"Duo," Milliardo began, contrite, but Duo thought that he was going to argue further. The vid on Milliardo's cell phone lit up. He saw a very small picture of Duo sitting up in a bed. His face looked very angry. His eyes looked sunken with weariness and his hair was dishelveled. The scene shifted and Milliardo realized that he was looking at a Heero Yuy asleep in Duo's lap, the man's arms locked around Duo's waist.  
  
"He goddam needs me," Duo said, "and I'm going to be here for him. You are not disturbing him. Get over it or get rid of us both. I do not need your military crap right now." The vid went dead and so did the connection.  
  
"Duo!" Milliardo snarled and threw the phone angrily against the back of the front seat. The driver started and rolled down the smoky partition.  
  
"Sir?" The driver inquired nervously.  
  
"Nothing!," Milliardo snapped back and the driver wisely rolled the partition back up.  
  
Milliardo's feeling were tied up in knots and he hated it. This was why there was a no fraternization rule, he thought angrily. How could he be a commander and have a potential relationship with a subordinate? Lives were in his hands. Heero Yuy was having some sort of break down and his condition was being treated as little more than a passing illness that would be nonexistent given time. Milliardo knew that he couldn't accept that and he certainly couldn't accept Duo and Heero's insubordination, no matter what he was feeling for Duo. Heero had to face him and give him answers and Milliardo was now determined that Heero would also have to go through a Preventer psych evaluation. If Duo and Heero were both opposed to that decision then Milliardo was not going to have any choice but to dismiss them both.  
  
Milliardo felt a violent ache in the center of his chest. He rubbed at it and bowed his head, his long, soft hair framing his pained _expression. God! He did not want to lose Duo. That feeling that had overcome him when they had kissed.. it had been so powerful. It had felt like finding a missing piece of himself, and, now that he had found it, he didn't know if he could live without it again.  
  
"He knows what you are like, now," Milliardo whispered bitterly to himself. "He knows that you'll choose to be a commander before you'll be a lover. That's when the others left me. He won't be any different. I have to accept that It's over." He pictured Heero, curled up in Duo's lap, arms wrapped around him possessively. Duo had chosen to, Milliardo thought, his bitterness growing. Duo had promised that no one was Milliardo's rival, yet the evidence contradicting that had been right there for Milliardo to see. Duo had chosen Heero over him. Perhaps they weren't lovers in the sexual sense, but it was clear that their friendship was more important than a career or a possible lover.  
  
The phone rang. Milliardo reluctantly picked it up from the floor of the car, composing himself as he did so. He expected it to be business and was shocked when the vid came on and Duo's face was looking at him guiltily.  
  
"I'm sorry," Duo said softly. "It's... It's just been a very long day and calming Heero down took hours. He wouldn't let go of me or let me out of his sight. I understand your position. I know I don't have the luxury of calling all the shots in this job, not with so many people depending on me... on Heero. I know... I know it looks bad to you. I know you'll probably want Heero's head examined... Just... just go easy on him, okay? It took a long time for me to get him where he is. He was pretty messed up after the war. Without me..." Duo cleared his throat and wiped at his face. "I'm all he has, Mil. I'm what keeps him together. I don't mind that. You have to understand that. It's not a burden to me because... I guess I feel that strongly about our friendship."  
  
Duo coughed and Milliardo saw him reach past the vid lens and pick a glass of water up from a hidden table. He sipped at the water and then put the glass back on the table. "I guess we both aren't models of stability," he continued, "but we've always been given missions where that's not a liability. I think, if you want us both to remain with the Preventers, that you have to accept that we won't be suited to every mission. I know that's hard for you. I know you think that an agent should be a tool that you can place in any situation. We're specialized tools though. You wouldn't use a commando transport to question a witness and you can't use Heero and me to lick stamps for envelopes. We are the best at what we do, but outside of that... Don't put guard dogs in with babies, that's all I'm saying... Does any of that make any sense, Mil? I hope it does because... that kiss in the garage... that meant a lot to me. I don't want to stop now, what's happening between us. I know your career is part of what you are. I know you can't separate the two. Because I know that, I also know what will happen to US if I have to go against you and your orders. Please don't make me have to, Mil. Find a way that I can do what you want, but still take care of Heero."  
  
Milliardo was very quiet, his mind swirling, the commander Milliardo trying to find common ground with the man Milliardo. Duo's purple eyes gazed at him, too obviously begging him to understand. Could he allow himself to do what Duo wanted? Milliardo thought of consequences, thought angrily of Sally Po and the commander before him who had allowed Heero and Duo to run roughshod over rules and regulations, thereby dumping the problem into Milliardo's lap at the worst possible time.  
  
Milliardo admitted very carefully, "I want to do that... I want to give you what you want. I ... I don't have enough information though. You have to give me time." Milliardo swallowed hard. "That kiss meant a great deal to me too. I... I don't want... I don't want this coming between us."  
  
Duo nodded pensively, his face showing some hope, but showing some reserve as well. He winced suddenly and made a small sound of pain.  
  
"What's wrong?" Milliardo demanded sharply.  
  
Duo chuckled, but it was strained. "Heero can still bend steel in his bare hands. He's just holding on a bit too tight."  
  
Without thought, Milliardo blurted out, "Should I come there to help? I'm not far away."  
  
Duo stared in surprise and then a slow smile brightened his face. "No, that's all right, Mil. He won't really hurt me. Thanks though..."

Milliardo wasn't convinced. "You are sure?"  
  
"Yes," Duo assured him. "I've been through this a few times. Heero just needs to know that I'm where he can protect me. Once he gets his head around that I'm not hurt and that you... well, that you DID protect me from the bad guys, he'll be okay."  
  
"But...," Milliardo felt embarrassment. He was sounding like a fool, he thought. He knew Duo's skill and strength. If anyone could handle Heero it would be Duo Maxwell. "All right, "Milliardo replied, but then added reluctantly, "I will expect to see Heero in the morning, Duo. That is an order."  
  
"Understood," Duo replied with a nod and then gave the lens an intense look. "I really want this to work, Mil. I hope..." he seemed embarrassed as well suddenly and a bit uncertain as he finished, "I hope we can figure this out because I don't want to stop seeing you."  
  
The pain in Milliardo's chest turned into something else that was even more painful, but markedly different. This was a swelling, as if he were about to burst with some great emotion, and it all had to do with Duo's last sentence. Milliardo had a foolish urge to touch the vid screen, as if it were really Duo's face there and, even though he knew it was completely foolish, he found his fingers doing just that. Duo blinked, probably seeing odd, dark, unidentified blots, but he seemed to know what they were. When Milliardo removed his fingers, he saw Duo looking as if he were overwhelmed.   
  
"I have to do my job," Milliardo told Duo. "I have a duty to do the right thing, but... if there is a way to reconcile all of this, I will do my best to find it, Duo. I DO want to find it."  
  
Duo blinked a few times rapidly and then said huskily, "That's all I expect and that's all I'll ask for. I wouldn't ask you to compromise yourself because of... because of what's going on between us. I wouldn't ask you to accept Heero and me the way we are if I thought that we weren't fit for our jobs."  
  
"I believe that," Milliardo replied and did.  
  
"Good," Duo said and his smile was soft now. "Duo Maxwell doesn't lie," he told Milliardo. "Remember that Mil. No matter what happens, or what anyone says, believe what I'm telling you."  
  
Duo's eyes were so intense that Milliardo found himself not doubting Duo at all, though the more jaded and experienced side of him scoffed. "I do believe you," Milliardo said and then added, "In the morning then, Duo, I will expect to see you and Heero."  
  
"We'll be there," Duo promised.   
  
The phone went dark and Milliardo found himself gently caressing it in his hands as if it were Duo he was holding and not a cold piece of technology. "I do believe you," he whispered and it was more than Duo's ascertain that he didn't lie that he believed in.


	14. Touches

"Hey, Milliardo," a familiar voice said and Milliardo turned and frowned at the man approaching him.  
  
Milliardo was not in the mood to talk. He had just had a very long session with Heero Yuy that morning, and though his questions had all been satisfactorily answered and his order, to see the staff psychologist for an evaluation, complied with, he was still left with a sense that he was flying in the face of every military precept to allow Heero to keep his job. It made him irritable, especially since he was now forced to go to Sally Po and explain his report and his reasoning behind it when 'feeling' that Heero would complete a mission no matter what the cost to himself, or Duo Maxwell, was in no way supported by current facts.  
  
"Busy?" the man who had spoken was Gregory Sharp, a commander for a special ops unit that Milliardo had worked with before. A tall, dark, spit and polish soldier from a well placed family, Milliardo considered him a friend, though not a close one. They sometimes had more than a working relationship and had gone to social occasions more than once. Milliardo supposed that was why the man felt free to say, "Heard that you were out with Duo Maxwell the other day and ran into a bit of trouble."  
  
Milliardo winced inwardly. "If you are going to chastise me for getting into that type of situation, you don't need to bother. I've done enough of that myself."  
  
Sharp shrugged and chuckled. "You are damned notorious. I don't see how you can avoid situations like that completely. " He rubbed the back of his neck and seemed suddenly nervous. He gave a swift look around them and then leaned close when he saw that the hallway was empty. "What I want to know is, is he as good as I think he is?"  
  
Milliardo grunted. "He's an excellent fighter. I was very impressed by his-"  
  
Sharp snorted. "Milliardo! I meant, is he any good on his back?" The man grinned. "The talk is that you've taken up with that pretty little soldier boy. I have to tell you that we are all envious, well, at least those of us with that sort of interest. " The man winked.   
  
Milliardo stared and then, his rage on a tight leash, he began to reply, "What gave you the impression that I-?"  
  
The man snickered. "Oh, come on Milliardo! We knew you wouldn't be able to resist him once he ended up under your command! We were laying bets from the first day. I know you come off as damned stuffy and correct, but I know that you have the same blood in your veins as I do." He clapped Milliardo on the back. "Just let me be the first to know when you get tired of him. When you kick him out your bed, I want to be there to get him into mine. You can tell me all the buttons to push to make him open those lovely, long legs for me, too, all right?"  
  
Milliardo was used to the crudeness of soldiers. He had learned to ignore it and to sometimes to join in with it to bond with his men. In that office building, though, far away from any war, or even a barracks room, the last thing that he had expected was to run into it and to receive it from such a person; one of his own peers. That alone was enough to make him tremble with disgust and anger, that the man was talking about Duo, as if he were something less than they were, a toy to be played with and then handed on to the next man, was enough to make Milliardo see red and to feel rage burn through him as if he were on fire.  
  
Milliardo's eyes cleared and he stared down at the man sprawled at his feet. He'd decked Sharp with a roundhouse punch without thinking. The man was rubbing his jaw and blinking stupidly. "I am Duo Maxwell's commanding officer," Milliardo said in a dangerous voice he hardly recognized as his own. "If you speak of him to me, or anyone else, in that manner again, I won't be responsible for my actions." Milliardo gave the hall a swift glance. It was still empty, the hour early enough that many people hadn't yet arrived at work. "Don't imagine that you will report this incident either," he continued. "I'm not above countering with a report of my own pertaining to your words to me and what they imply about your behavior towards those of lower rank under your command."  
  
The man sneered and slowly stood up. "All right, Milliardo. I know how important your image is to you. I guess you wouldn't want just anyone knowing that you strayed in your entertainment and sampled some cheap fare. Just don't keep him long or the talk WILL spread with or without my help. You might need a man like that to polish your boots, but you don't ask him to stay for dinner afterwards."  
  
The rage almost washed over Milliardo again and his hand balled into a fist, but Sharp was already walking away, his face red with anger and dark with resentment.  
  
The monarchies were dead, Milliardo thought bitterly, but the attitude of the people who had been a part of them lingered. They still maintained their class structure, they still attempted to rule, using their wealth and prestige to gain them land and positions of importance, and they still retained their acute snobbery. Command positions, whatever the military organization, were too often held by the elite, since they could afford the better schools and connections. It was a sad fact that these elitist commanders too often brought their aristocratic standards and attitudes with them. They looked on their subordinates, not with just the distance of a commander for a foot soldier, but also with the attitude that they had been born better than their subordinates. Milliardo wished that he could say that what Sharp, or others like him, said didn't matter, but that would have been naive. He had Relena to think about and he had the respect and trust of his men to think about also. If Sharp wanted to make trouble, he could make a great deal of it.  
  
Common sense and prudence told Milliardo to call it quits with Duo. The situation was ripe for disaster. Sharp was insulted and Milliardo had bruised his ego as well as his face. A call to Sally Po, a call to the press, a call to Relena, his sister, or any number of various dignitaries, could easily spell the end of Milliardo's career as well as any social place that he had carved out for himself among his peers. Those two things had given Milliardo at least some semblance of peace. If he continued down the road that he was taking, peace could be the last thing that he would get.  
  
"Commander Peacecraft!" Duo called in warning, allowing Milliardo time to identify him before he took hold of Milliardo's uniform jacket and tugged him out of a side door. That door led outside. A few steps to the left, and they were hidden by a long line of box shrubs. Duo turned to Milliardo then and his eyes were happy and shinning.  
  
"What is it?" Milliardo asked, trying to keep his look of annoyance even as the feeling itself melted under the onslaught of Duo's obvious happiness. "I have a meeting with Commander Po to attend."  
  
"I know. I won't keep you," Duo told him quickly. "I just wanted to thank you for the way that you treated Heero. You gave him an honest hearing and you didn't make your decision until you heard him out."  
  
"That's the way a commander is supposed to behave," Milliardo replied. The sun sparkling on Duo's brown hair, giving it cinnamon highlights. His face was glowing, even though he looked tired. He was vibrant, handsome, a bundle of energy. This was the person that Sharp thought was beneath him. This was the person that people like Sharp thought was an embarrassment to show in public; someone to hide away, use and discard. This was the person they wanted him to give up. If he didn't, Sharp was very likely going to drag Milliardo's name through the gossip mills.  
  
"Mil?" Duo prompted, less formal now that there was small chance of anyone seeing or hearing them. "Are you just going to stare? You're not mad, are you? I know I was pretty damned rude last night, but Heero-"  
  
"Shh!" Milliardo made a small quieting gesture with his hand and Duo blinked, surprised. That hand lowered to smooth along Duo's hair and then his cheek. Duo's pale skin blushed and he looked nervous, not sure what Milliardo was wanting or thinking. Milliardo leaned close and softly brushed Duo's lips with his. He whispered against them, 'When they told him to take the road to Heaven, he took the high road to Hell instead.' and then he was drinking in Duo's lips with his own, not really sure of his reception, especially after their sharp words the day before.  
  
Duo responded. He pressed forward and his mouth opened to let Milliardo plunder it with his tongue. They stood like that, letting their tongues probe deep and caress each other, letting them take the step that they themselves were not yet ready for. Duo's hands raised and gripped Milliardo's waist. His pelvis dipped forward and Milliardo felt a hardness caress him below the belt through the material of their clothing.  
  
It was a shock. Milliardo felt a shiver travel through his body at the feel of what could only be one thing. When he broke the kiss and looked down into Duo's violet eyes, battling with an urge to do more than just touch, Duo said, "Maybe they didn't really know the way to Heaven and he did?"  
  
"You're not at all what I expected," Milliardo said softly. His hand lifted to caress Duo's cheek and Duo looked unsure. Milliardo clarified. "I don't give my affections lightly. I'm very aware that I am not like everyone else, free to do as I please without there being consequences. I have a command position. I have a duty not to generate embarrassment for my sister, Relena. When I first saw you, I made a superficial judgment that was completely in error. When the facts of the matter mounted, informing me that I was wrong in my assumptions, I fought against that truth... I fought against it, because..." Milliardo couldn't think, not with Duo's hardness planted against him and Duo looking up at him, trying to understand.  
  
Milliardo purposefully put an inch of space between them, but his hands lowered to gently hold onto the lapels of Duo's uniform jacket so that he wouldn't think that it was a rejection. Milliardo continued, "I knew that I was having feelings for you and I wasn't sure that those feelings were appropriate for someone like me."  
  
Duo's puzzled look sharply turned into anger. Strong hands gripped Milliardo's hands and Duo looked as if he were prepared to throw them off as he replied hotly, "Not sure you wanted to mingle with L2 street trash? What changed your mind?"  
  
Milliardo caressed Duo's hands and then took them and pulled so that Duo's arms were around his waist. He pressed them there and admitted, "Someone said something to me and it was ugly. When I realized that I had been thinking the exact same kind of ugliness, that I was guilty of..." Milliardo couldn't say it, couldn't go that far and admit that he had been thinking of Duo as a liability, an embarrassment , less than his position and his birth and therefore someone to be restricted or avoided all together. "I can't be free to do everything that I want to do where this relationship is concerned," Milliardo told Duo. "I need to be honorable and beyond reproach. In public, we must be reserved and aware at all times that eyes, camera lenses, and people with a vendetta against me and my sister, could be watching us."  
  
Duo blinked and pulled his arms away from Milliardo. "Let me get this straight," he said with a tight, dangerous smile. "You're telling me that you're ready to try for a relationship, but that we have to have to act, in public, like we don't have one? How is this any sort of 'awakening' on your part? I mean, if this person who talked to you made you realize that you were wrong, but you still want to keep me in your closet with your shiny boots, then I'm not sure what 'wrong' you're talking about."   
  
Milliardo replied, feeling that he was treading on land mines and not sure of the right path through them to safety. "I discovered that it was wrong to not pursue a relationship because of my position and the responsibilities that I have. I realized that I was insulting you by thinking that way." It was the best that Milliardo could do. Telling Duo that their positions of birth and class had been on his mind as well, wouldn't get him to safety, he felt, so he was determined not to admit to such thoughts.  
  
Duo stepped back and Milliardo flushed when Duo backed all the way out of the cover of the shrubs, drew himself up where anyone could see, and then held out a hand to Milliardo. His eyes were hopeful, but ready for pain, as he said, "If what you want from me is honest, and you really do care about me, then stand where everyone can see you, where everyone can see us, and let me and everyone else know it."  
  
Milliardo stared at the hand, looked at Duo's handsome face, felt the leap in his heart that begged him to close the space between them. Hadn't he already said, 'Damn them all!' when he had punched Smart? Couldn't he take that hand held out to him and have a relationship like any other man where everyone could see? That they were two men wasn't so much of a scandal. It was their positions in rank and their positions in life that could dictate the course of the accusations and insults thrown at them.  
  
"I won't shame you," Duo said with intensity. "I won't make people laugh at us or give them fuel to ridicule you for your choice." When Milliardo still didn't move, Duo said flatly, beginning to lower his hand, "I won't play your game, because, if you can't do this, then that's all it ever was."  
  
Milliardo was suddenly there and taking Duo's hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing the calloused palm hard. Duo's eyes had widened at the suddenness of it, but then he was smiling softly and his free hand was lifting to Milliardo's collar. Taking a tight hold, he pulled Milliardo down to his level and his amethyst eyes shone into Milliardo's eyes. He took his other hand back from Milliardo's kiss and gave Milliardo a quick, painless, slap on the cheek.  
  
Milliardo grunted and straightened in surprise, touching his cheek in confusion. "That's for running me through the wringer again," Duo said. "You gotta stop that, Mil. Make up your mind and keep it made up, okay?"  
  
Milliardo blinked and then laughed. "How do you do that?" he asked when he had quieted. "How do you make me feel..."  
  
Duo looked serious and said, "I can't MAKE you, Mil, you either feel something or you don't."  
  
Milliardo refused to look around them, refused to see if judging eyes were watching. He wanted Duo to be sure of him. He wanted to be sure of himself. Milliardo reached out, gently took hold of Duo, and then pulled him close. Body to body, he felt Duo's hard lines mold against his. Milliardo was a tall man and Duo was slightly below average, but they unexpectedly fit and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to hold him. Duo wasn't submissive. That wasn't the kind of man that Milliardo wanted. Duo was strong and his grip on Milliardo was just as firm, just as in control of the embrace. It was almost painful to finally break it and step back.  
  
"I have a meeting," Milliardo said reluctantly.  
  
"Duty calls," Duo agreed huskily. "I guess I'll catch you later."  
  
Milliardo chuckled and said as he began walking away. "Haven't you already caught me?"


	15. Moonlight

Milliardo struggled up the last few feet of the rock wall, sweating and breathing hard. Duo grinned at him, already comfortably positioned and waiting for him. The younger man had beaten him easily, scaling the wall with the speed of a mad monkey, daring as always, reckless to the point where Milliardo was gasping out his outrage as soon as he was even with the ex Gundam pilot.  
  
"Duo! That was the single most irresponsible... reckless... insane climb I have-"  
  
Duo swung close, carefully latched onto Milliardo's harness with one hand while maintaining his three point hold with the rest of his body. He planted a deep, tonguing kiss on Milliardo's mouth and Milliardo was lost for the space of a few heartbeats. When Duo broke away again, he was panting too, both of them needing air. His eyes were soft wells of purple that begged Milliardo not to start an argument. His mind quickly going over the climb, Milliardo banked his anger and was slightly embarrassed to realize that his judgment of Duo's climb had been solely based on his anxiety for the man. In reality, Duo had used all the precautions and had made certain of all his hand and foot holds before proceeding to a higher level.  
  
"See, we're both recovered, "Duo said gleefully. "Time to send us both out on some missions, don't you think, sir?"  
  
Milliardo grunted. "It's the medic who makes that determination," he pointed out.  
  
Duo scoffed. "You know you can override that decision. They're always too careful." He nodded to the fake mountain wall. "This is the real test."  
  
"Adrenalin junkie," Milliardo grumbled and blew his bangs out of his face with an annoyed puff of air. Duo had braided it back from his face, but sweaty strands had escaped.  
  
"Like you're not?" Duo returned good naturedly. He looked unsure for a second and then asked cautiously, "Heero's done playing mother hen for now. He's gotten over that 'incident' of ours. If you want..." He paused and Milliardo saw him duck his head, and hide behind his cinnamon tangle of bangs, as he asked quickly, "Wanna come over for dinner, just us two?"  
  
Milliardo still couldn't help that uncertain hesitation, that double check of making certain it was both proper and not something someone could make a scandal out of. After the unexpected kiss, he had found himself looking down at the ground far below and making sure that they were still alone in the gym. He knew that he needn't have bothered. Duo, over the last week, had shown himself to be a model of good conduct and had been very careful to maintain the line between the professional and personal sides of their lives. He had not once shown Milliardo anything above what was due a commanding officer in front of other people, but, on the other hand, he had been very reserved when alone as well. The kiss had been the first show of intimacy that he had initiated after their meeting in the bushes.  
  
Not that they had been alone together much for anything to have happened between them, Milliardo sighed inwardly. Now that he had made up his mind, he had entertained thoughts of taking Duo back to his home and going to a deeper, more serious level, but Duo had strangely been standoffish in that respect, and Milliardo had been treated more like a friend Duo was trying to get to know than a new lover. He supposed that was wise, but his body protested. It was thinking at a baser level, one he didn't want to analyze too deeply. While he did want to get to know Duo as a friend and then take the more serious step later on, an instinctive urge within him wanted to test the young man, to see who would bend, who would give a little in the game of masculinity, who would surrender first.... Milliardo would have liked to be more certain that Duo would be the one to do that. It was in Milliardo's nature to be the protector/ the strong one/ the one in command, and he wasn't so sure that he would enjoy it any other way if Duo insisted.... but Duo was so strong for such a small, wiry man. He was masculine, take charge, and bold. Milliardo thought of Duo's hands taking hold of him, how he had kissed hungrily and taken what he had wanted without hesitation, of how he had wrapped his strong arms around Milliardo's slim waist and met Milliardo's advances just as forcefully. The thought that their relationship might be of two strong personalities and that the giving in might have to be done in turns, made Milliardo pause and consider.  
  
"Earth to Mil," Duo called with a grin. "I asked if you wanted to come back to my place for dinner?"  
  
Milliardo blinked, blushing and trying to bring his thoughts to order. He said without thinking, with a hint of the uncertainty that he felt, "Will you put poor Heero out on the doorstep like a cat until we're done?"  
  
Duo looked hurt, very briefly, and then his face did something... Milliardo tried to figure out what that _expression was as Duo replied, "We're not glued together, you know? It isn't like that. He's my best friend. He's always going to be there, Mil, but he's not going to be sleeping with us or getting in between us."   
  
Milliardo deciphered the look at last. Duo was expecting their relationship to end because of Heero. His other ones had in the past. That look had been of someone sensing the inevitable. Milliardo wanted to ask, 'but what happens when we become more intimate?' and 'What happens when we become a couple and move in to the same home?' but those were questions he could only ask if he had made those decisions to begin with. Voicing the possibility that they had reached that point was farther than Milliardo wanted to go just then.  
  
"Heero does have a life, by the way," Duo added. "Tonight's his meeting with the Decorator Club." Milliardo's eyes went wide.  
  
Duo snickered. "Just kidding. It's actually a group of other agents who like to talk about martial arts theory." Duo pantomimed a yawn. "I went once. They go on for HOURS. It's very dry and technical. If I give Heero the sign, he'll gladly stay all night and love every minute of it." Duo winked at Milliardo, "Mil, you have these problems with ANY roommate. One guy or girl has to sit outside and find something to do while the other has someone over."   
  
Milliardo relaxed. "Tonight?" Duo nodded. Milliardo took a deep breath, settling his nerve and quieting that annoying aristocratic voice of alarm that worried about a prince being hosted in less than royal surroundings. Allowing that voice to rule his decision would have been intolerable. He wasn't going to forget Commander Sharp's unintentional lesson in the ugliness of snobbery. There weren't any class distinctions any longer and Duo's simple home was not beneath him. "I'll go with you after work," Milliardo said at last. "I don't have any prior engagements."  
  
Duo beamed. "I don't cook and Heero won't have time. How about ordering Chinese?"  
  
"Italian," Milliardo suggested with a frown. "I enjoy Chinese, but-"  
  
Duo laughed. "First one down gets to choose!" And then he was repelling downward.  
  
Milliardo swore and began following more slowly, already knowing that he had lost. No, Duo wasn't going to be the submissive/cared for/ protected half of their relationship, he thought with a sigh and then, looking down and seeing Duo's confident descent, his strength and daring, Milliardo wondered if he would mind that so much.  
  
After work, Milliardo drove a car to Duo's apartment, following Duo in his. Duo soon lost him in traffic, speeding ahead and not waiting. That puzzled Milliardo, but, when he reached the apartment building and made his cautious way up to Duo's apartment, he heard Heero and Duo talking loudly enough to be heard even through the door.  
  
"You need to go now, Heero!" Duo said breathlessly. "Bye and all. Have a good time!"  
  
Hero's voice sounded grumbling and lecturing. "If you had asked, I would have come home earlier and cleaned. You should plan better."  
  
"I know! I know!" Duo shot back. "It was a spur of the moment thing though! Thanks for getting dinner, now take yours and see ya later! I want as much time as I can get with Mil."  
  
Milliardo could almost see Heero's smirk of amusement. "You like him a great deal, don't you?"  
  
"LIKE doesn't even cover it, best friend o'mine!" Duo replied warmly. "No calling! No coming home early! I'm in our apartment and Milliardo is-"  
  
"Capable of taking care of you, yes I know," Heero finished. "I'm leaving. Have fun."  
  
"Oh, I intend to!" Duo laughed.  
  
The door opened just as Milliardo decided it was time to knock. Heero was standing there with his car keys and a bag of what smelled like Italian food. Heero had a small piece of garlic bread in his mouth. He let it drop onto his burden in embarrassment and said, "Good evening, sir, I was just leaving. Duo is inside and expecting you."  
  
"Sorry if this is an inconvenience, agent Yuy," Milliardo apologized automatically.  
  
"None at all, sir," Heero assured him. "Have a pleasant evening."  
  
"Thank you," Milliardo replied and Heero was moving past him and walking down the hallway. Somehow, despite the neutral conversation, Heero had made it feel as if it was a changing of the guard and Milliardo was certain it was intentional.  
  
Going inside, Milliardo called out, "Duo! I'm here!"  
  
The apartment looked clean enough, Milliardo thought. A few things were out of place or left out, but nothing to warrant a mad dash to straighten. When Duo appeared, breathing hard and smiling apologetically, he said, "Sorry about the mess. Asking you here was kind of an impulse."  
  
"It is quite all right," Milliardo assured him. He was dressed casually, having changed before leaving work. He wore a soft pair of black pants and a loose, light blue shirt with a polo collar. Duo had changed into blue jeans and a red shirt that kept slipping a bit towards one rounded shoulder. it showed the enticing line of his collar as he moved nervously, motioning to the couch.  
  
"Sit down, Mil. Would you like something to drink?" Duo asked. "Juice, tea, coffee, soda...?"  
  
Milliardo sat gingerly and then forced himself to relax and sit back. The couch was very comfortable. It seemed to take the bone weariness of the day into itself and cradle his body. Milliardo could have easily closed his eyes and gone to sleep there. His own furniture in his apartment was tasteful, but its main function was to look good rather than to be comfortable.  
  
Duo stood looking at him, rubbing the back of his neck and looking nervous. Milliardo realized that he was still waiting for an answer.  
  
"Tea?" Milliardo asked tentatively.  
  
Duo smiled. "Heero made some before he left so there's still hot water. Be back in a sec."  
  
The kitchen was small and it had a half swing door. Milliardo could see Duo's legs as he walked about and made the tea. The smell of Italian food was very strong. "I thought that you wanted to have Chinese!" Milliardo said.  
  
"You're the guest, though," Duo called back with a chuckle. "I remembered my manners about an hour before quitting time."  
  
Milliardo laughed at that and then looked carefully about the little apartment. He hadn't noticed much when he had visited last, but, now that he had more time, he could see that there were many touches that were meticulous and well arranged. A shrine of framed photos showed a collage of Gundam pilots in various activities, Duo making a face at the camera and flashing a peace sign, Quatre looking reserved but smiling in his goggles, Trowa appearing in the act of turning away from the camera in a mercenary's instinctive reflex to remain unnoticed, Wu Fei scowling and lifting a finger as if admonishing whoever was taking the photo, Heero standing silently with a small smile next to the foot of his Gundam, and a few group photos that Milliardo recognized from an awards ceremony. The awards themselves were in a display frame above the photos.  
  
There was a weapons locker against one wall. A rack with flack jackets, a piece of chest armor with a blast mark on one side, and several coats next to that by the door. Someone had painted the locker gray and made a faux granite finish on it.  
  
Turning, Milliardo saw two bedroom doors. They were darkened inside, but he could make out the messy, unmade bed in one, a scattering of magazines and books over the rumpled blankets and a few soda cans on a side table, and a neat queen sized bed in the other room that matched the same blue and gray decor in the living room.  
  
"Yeah, I'm not the cleanest guy in the world," Duo lamented in embarrassment as he handed Milliardo his hot tea.  
  
Milliardo twitched instinctively at Duo's sudden appearance, calmed his soldier instincts, and took his tea graciously. Duo sat on the opposite end of the couch, one leg hitched up as he faced Milliardo sideways and sipped at a cup of coffee. He still looked uncertain and nervous.  
  
"At least Heero makes me keep it all in my own room," Duo added.  
  
"That's wise," Milliardo replied and smiled. "I don't need to be impressed by housekeeping skills, Duo. I was mostly brought up in a soldier's barracks."  
  
"In an Oz officer's quarters," Duo corrected him with a wink. "That's a bit different."  
  
Milliardo shrugged, amused, "Officers can be just as messy as regulars."

Milliardo put his tea down and Duo, after a moment, put down his coffee mug. Duo sat up and inched a bit closer as he asked, "I hope you don't mind lasagna and garlic bread?"  
  
"No, not at all," Milliardo assured him. He felt that he needed to ease some of Duo's tension. "I assure you, I'm not expecting anything other than a meal tonight, Duo. We should talk and get to know each other. I think you were right to pursue a friendship before going any deeper into trying to form a relationship."  
  
Duo's eyes widened a little. One of his hands reached out and felt the collar of Milliardo's shirt. "Actually, I didn't want to rush you. Heero told me that I'm real good at pressuring and overwhelming people. He said that I should wait for you to make the first move, so that I would know that you were ready and that it's what you wanted."  
  
"Wise man," Milliardo whispered, feeling a heat start to build inside of him. "So, if he hadn't given such sage advice, what would we be doing now?"  
  
Duo had another flicker of uncertainty and then he seemed to toss that aside as he smiled softly and replied, "I think we've already established that we have an attraction to each other and that we want things to develop between us. I think we're past the point where we need to figure out what we really want. Mil..." Duo swallowed and looked down. "Can we... I don't want you to think... or... feel... What I mean is..."  
  
Milliardo hadn't foreseen this at all. He had thought there would be a slow moving forward, maybe nothing more than friendship for awhile. He forced himself to weigh consequences. Was it the right time? Would he regret it? What if something went wrong? Was there a chance that this might damage what was forming between them? Was he even ready for this?  
  
"Skip dinner," Milliardo said quietly and his hand slid up under Duo's shirt, moved along the warm skin of his back, and then pulled Duo gently to him. He stood and brought Duo to his feet along with him, lips hungrily tasting that line of Duo's neck that had been teasing him since his arrival.  
  
Holding Duo against him with one, strong arm, Milliardo's free hand smoothed along Duo's face, his cheek, and then ghosted over his lips. He felt Duo give his fingertips nipping little kisses and then Duo surprised Milliardo by swallowing his middle finger whole and sucking hungrily on it. Milliardo felt the rasp of a swirling tongue.  
  
Milliardo shivered under that onslaught and turned his head in time to witness Duo pulling back and letting that finger do a slow, warm, wet slide out of his mouth. Milliardo gasped, feeling his pants go very tight at the crotch as an intense heat scalded him from the inside out.   
  
Duo ran strong, calloused hands up under Milliardo's shirt. Lifting it high, while Milliardo stood, stunned, Duo winked, then ducked his head underneath. Milliardo clutched at Duo when he felt that talented mouth latch onto one of his nipples and suckle.   
  
Breathe, Milliardo told himself as he trembled and tried to keep himself from tossing Duo onto the couch again and having him then and there, especially when Duo began to alternate between his nipples, tormenting them both equally. This wasn't a quick conquest, this was someone he truly cared about, Milliardo told himself. He couldn't allow himself to lose control.  
  
"Bedroom?" Duo whispered against his skin and his hot breath made Milliardo's nipple go rock hard.  
  
"Yes," Milliardo replied and it came out as a groan.  
  
Duo came out of hiding from under Milliardo's shirt and they moved into Duo's bedroom, lips still kissing and hands roving and pulling at clothing. Duo's shirt ended up on the top of a lamp and Milliardo's ended up tangled at their feet. When Duo's back hit the bed, Milliardo was instantly climbing on top. It was his turn to torment.  
  
Duo's jeans rode low on hips and his tattoo was prominent, so was his nipple ring and the light tracery of scars, that even surgery hadn't completely erased, that hinted at his ugly past. He was breathing hard. Milliardo could see knots on his ribs where they must have been broken at one time.  
  
Duo wasn't perfect. He was wiry, all muscle, and as lean as an alley cat. Yet... he WAS perfect, Milliardo thought, but in a different way entirely than he was used to judging such things. Duo had a glow, a vibrancy about him. His energy was on his skin and it was almost electric. When Milliardo smoothed hands over his washboard stomach, he almost imagined that he felt a charge.  
  
Duo smelled masculine, but in a way that was like fresh bread in the morning or pastries cooling on a tray. It made Milliardo's mouth water and his body long for a taste. The way he shivered, the small undulation his belly made as Milliardo made a trail of kisses and licks down to his naval, and the tensing and flexing of his muscles, was like an erotic dance. Milliardo couldn't help wrapping both arms about his waist and bringing him up to open the snap of Duo's jeans with his teeth. Duo gasped and his large eyes went wide, but he reached down and helped Milliardo with the zipper.  
  
Milliardo slowly pulled Duo's jeans and underwear down to his knees and then took them off entirely, tossing them aside without taking his eyes from where Duo's legs came together. Duo's erection was hard and red, the tip tinged purple with need. It was long and narrow, the organ looking almost delicate against his pale skin. Milliardo looked up the length of Duo's body and found Duo watching him anxiously, with a man's need to know that what he had was all right and that another man wasn't about to ridicule him. Milliardo knew that he didn't have to speak with words, instead, he put his hands under Duo's hips and let his mouth speak for him. He bent and took Duo's erection into his mouth.  
  
Duo made a noise that was half cry and half moan, as if he were in pain and experiencing great pleasure at the same time. Milliardo wrung more of those noises from him as he milked Duo's erection with his warm, moist mouth as if he were enjoying the greatest delicacy. I felt that way to him, Milliardo thought. He had been with other men in his life, but none of them had made him experience the sensations that Duo was effortlessly creating within him. None of them had made him want them more than anything else on Earth or in Space.  
  
Milliardo released Duo's erection and Duo reflexively reached for him with a groan of frustration. Milliardo felt Duo's strong grip on his arm as he looked into Duo's pleading eyes and asked, "How do we do this, Duo? Tell me what you would like me to do."  
  
Both of Duo's hands were on him then, smoothing over his large, rounded shoulders and then down his broad chest. "You're like a mountain compared to me," Duo said breathlessly. "Try not to squash me, that's all." He chuckled, but it was weak as he reached over to the side table and brought out a package of condoms and a tube of lube. When Milliardo looked surprised at Duo's choice, Duo chuckled again and joked, "What? You thought I might want to be on top? You're the commander sir. You out rank me, right?" He gave Milliardo a look that had a daring glint to it. "We'll talk about giving me a promotion later."  
  
Milliardo prepared his erection, trying not to think about when Duo might ask for a fair turnabout. When he was ready, he positioned himself over Duo and kissed him deeply. As his lubed fingers found Duo's entrance, he felt Duo tense. He looked down into Duo's shinning eyes and saw a sudden tension. Was Duo afraid? How long had it been since he had been with anyone? Was he afraid that he, Milliardo, might hurt him? Duo looked small and boyish underneath him, but Duo was definitely a man in every way that mattered, and he was a trained killer. Milliardo discarded the idea that Duo was afraid of him. If not that, then, what?  
  
"Duo," Milliardo said seriously, "you can change your mind."  
  
"So can you," Duo replied, as if it were a challenge.  
  
"That's not what I want," Milliardo assured him.  
  
"Neither do I," Duo said as his hands touched Milliardo's erection and checked the condom there. That touch nearly sent Milliardo over the edge. He tried to keep focused on Duo, on waiting, on not letting his twitching erection have its way.  
  
"What is it then?" Milliardo wondered.  
  
Duo looked embarrassed. "I... well.. Is this all right? I don't know what you're used to. Maybe you think I'm being... easy?" He winced as he said the last word. "That's dumb," he amended, "I mean.... I don't want you to think this is just any other jump in the sack. This is... kind of... special." His blush deepened. "Okay?"  
  
Milliardo felt relieved, all of his worries melting away. He devoured Duo's throat and licked under his ear. "I'm glad," he whispered into Duo's ear. "It's special for me too."  
  
Duo laughed. "Next we'll be braiding each others hair and painting each others nails."  
  
Milliardo laughed as well. "I don't think either of us have to worry about our masculinity, Duo."  
  
Duo's hands brought their erections together and rubbed them. "No, I guess we don't, do we?"  
  
"Now?" Milliardo asked, desperate.  
  
"Yes," Duo replied and his legs opened and his knees raised. He visibly braced himself as Milliardo's fingers began to prepare him.   
  
"Look at me," Milliardo told him and Duo looked up into Milliardo's face as Milliardo's fingers opened him up. "I don't want to hurt you. You will tell me if it does."  
  
"Yes, sir," Duo whispered. "Any other orders?"  
  
"Raise your legs higher, pilot," Milliardo ordered, falling easily into his role.  
  
Milliardo saw Duo's look of pleasure grow more intense. He liked the game. He liked having the responsibility taken out of his hands, the worry that he might be doing something wrong. If he only had to follow orders, then he didn't need to be anxious. Milliardo's fingers felt him relax at last and he knew that Duo was ready for him.  
  
"Bend, soldier," Milliardo ordered and hooked Duo's slim legs with his arms and helped him to stay in place. "Ready?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Duo replied, but Milliardo heard him swallow.  
  
"Pain isn't in the mission plan," Milliardo assured him again.  
  
"Sir," Duo replied, sounding confident at least.  
  
The tip of Milliardo's erection touched Duo's entrance. As he began to slide in, he found Duo extremely tight. Duo winced and groaned, clutching at his arms, but his knees rose higher and he pushed back, taking more of Milliardo in when Milliardo faltered. Halfway, Duo began to pant. Milliardo did stop then.  
  
"Duo? I ordered you-"  
  
"Haven't done this in years!" Duo shot back between breaths. "Course it hurts a bit! Push the damn thing in and get it over with!"  
  
"No," Milliardo told him and pulled out. Duo hissed, angry in his frustration as Milliardo applied more lube and then positioned himself to try once more. Halfway in again, he began a slow, shallow, rhythm of tiny thrusts. Duo's tightness was driving him crazy. He wanted to drive in as hard as he could and pump for all that he was worth. Duo's _expression stopped him from doing that. Duo was feeling pain again. "Have you even done this before?" Milliardo finally wondered.  
  
"Not with someone built like a horse!" Duo retorted and then laughed. Startled, Milliardo wasn't prepared when Duo drove himself upward and took in Milliardo's entire length. "There! Mission accomplished, sir!" Duo gasped out.  
  
"Duo!" Milliardo exclaimed as he caressed Duo's face anxiously and kissed him tenderly. He watched Duo's _expression change from pain to a middle ground, a middle ground that Milliardo knew was only going to turn into pleasure if he began to move and loosen Duo up further. "I'm going to write a report about your insubordination, Duo Maxwell!" Milliardo growled as he began to thrust very slowly and carefully.  
  
And then Milliardo forgot about everything. Duo did loosen, but his body was like a hot sheathe, still tight enough to give Milliardo a sucking sensation as he thrust in and out. Milliardo couldn't help pumping in earnest then, especially when Duo grunted with every thrust, moaned, and made small, desperate noises, his hands gripping Milliardo's back..  
  
Duo came first, crying out with a long drawn out moan as his hot cum splattered both their bellies. Milliardo was only a moment behind. He reached around Duo and cradled him up against his body as he rocked above him in a violent orgasm more powerful than any he had ever experienced before.  
  
Milliardo wasn't certain what happened after that. It was almost as if he had fallen unconscious, his mind over loaded with pleasure. When he could make sense out of the world again, he found himself stretched out on his back, sated and cooling off, except where Duo was sprawled across his chest. He reached out a trembling hand and smoothed it over Duo's hair. Duo turned his head and grinned at him like a cat with cream.  
  
"You're a great first date," Duo joked.  
  
"So are you," Milliardo replied, but he was more serious. He brushed sweaty bangs out of Duo's face and felt a wave of protective tenderness. It was attached to an inner instinct that told him that it had claimed Duo as his mate. The rational Milliardo Peacecraft scoffed at the notion, but he couldn't reason with something that had been operating within men for millions of years. It didn't care that Duo was a male and perfectly capable of caring for himself, it still sent a wave of testosterone and alpha maleness that made Milliardo put an arm around Duo, hold him close, and feel as if Duo now 'belonged' to him.  
  
Duo had other ideas. He sat up, sliding out of the embrace, and wrinkled his nose. "Let's get cleaned up and then have dinner." He stood, took hold of Milliardo's arm, and pulled at him. Milliardo almost protested. He wanted to enjoy the sated feeling a little longer, but Duo was insistent. "Come on, Mil!" He winked suggestively. "I'll help you wash."  
  
Milliardo was up then and more eager to clean up. As he followed Duo, watching the man walking gingerly in front of him, he felt a stab of guilt at having caused Duo pain, until Duo half turned and asked anxiously, "I wasn't too rough, was I?"  
  
Milliardo blinked stupidly.  
  
"I mean, the way I was pushing up and down like that?" Duo clarified. "I know I was tight, but it felt so good after I got used to it, and you were being so careful. It was like an itch you weren't scratching deep inside. I needed you in there scratching it good," Duo chuckled.   
  
"I thought..." Milliardo smiled slowly. "No, you didn't hurt me, Duo."  
  
"Good!" Duo crooked a finger then. "Come one, then, sir, and you can order me to wash whatever you'd like."  
  
Milliardo watched Duo go into the bathroom ahead of him, long braid swinging behind him. Milliardo lifted a hand to his heart and rubbed. A pain there blossomed and throbbed. He knew what it was. He wanted to say that it was too soon, that he didn't really know Duo, but arguments were useless. He had known the truth of the matter from the first moment that he had met Duo in the Preventer gym, when they had first kissed in the parking garage, and when he had affirmed his intentions behind those bushes. Having released all of his pent up needs for Duo, he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that what he was feeling wasn't just a physical attraction. Milliardo was in love.


	16. Morning Afters

They sat across the small table from each other and quietly ate their reheated lasagna. Milliardo felt subdued, sated, content, but he could feel a nervousness in Duo and he knew that he had to reassure him.  
  
"Sore?" It seemed obvious. Duo was sitting gingerly, shifting uncomfortably in his chair more than once.  
  
Duo blushed, but smiled ruefully. "It was worth it." He wiped at his mouth with a napkin and then asked cautiously, "Was it okay for you? I know I'm not... well, I was kind of nervous, sorry."  
  
Milliardo pushed away the rest of his meal and looked at Duo's red face squarely. "It was the most exhilarating and fulfilling experience of my life," he said without reservation.  
  
Duo started, swallowed hard, and then asked in a small voice, "Really? I... you know, it was for me too, Mil." He rubbed at the back of his neck and then rose and moved his chair next to Milliardo's. Sitting down again, he swung his legs so that they were resting over Milliardo's. Half sitting in his chair and half sitting in Milliardo's lap, Duo reached out for him and gripped the front of Milliardo's shirt. "I wanted to be with you right when I first saw you," he admitted. He chewed over something and then laughed. He looked up and his eyes were shinning, even though his face betrayed his uncertainty. "I guess I need to ask, 'Will you still respect me in the morning?' Stupid, right?"  
  
Milliardo shook his head and his pale hair cascaded all around Duo. "No, it's not stupid," he replied softly and smoothed a hand along Duo's cheek. He kissed Duo tenderly and then met his eyes as he said, "This is not a one time affair. I can't tell you that I know where it will proceed from this point, but I assure you..." Milliardo leaned forward and nuzzled Duo's neck. Duo tilted his chin to give him more access and the vulnerable, trusting pose, made Milliardo want him again, "this is about far more than sexual gratification."  
  
"You were... gratified, then?" Duo asked, his male pride needing to know.  
  
Milliardo chuckled. "Can't you feel how much I want to be with you again? You were amazing!"  
  
"Amazing?" Duo grinned as he rubbed his thigh across Milliardo's erection through his pants. "So were you. I just... well, you have to know that I don't let just anybody do that with me. It's kind of real personal."  
  
"You don't have to tell me that," Milliardo chuckled. "You were very... tight."  
  
Duo blushed again and Milliardo found himself doing the same. It seemed ridiculous. They were grown men and neither of them were virgins. He knew, though, where their embarrassment was stemming from. They were virgins in a sense, virgins when it came to being in love. In that area, their inexperience was making them awkward. This wasn't having sex for release and then going about their separate ways. They had to stay and have a relationship, talk about it, and understand each other's feelings. There was also their past to hash over. Milliardo knew that they couldn't go forward unless they both knew the field they were playing on intimately.  
  
"You've done that with Heero?" Milliardo asked.  
  
Duo was uncomfortable and Milliardo could sense his fear about answering. For a moment, Milliardo was afraid that Duo was going to lie to him, despite Duo's assurance that he never lied. Milliardo left off nuzzling Duo's neck and leaned back to see his face. Duo was looking very tense, eyes on a point behind his shoulder as he finally replied, "Yes, does that bother you? I mean, we were hormone crazed teens and we needed that kind of release. Heero wasn't gay, and he really didn't like too, but a warm body is a warm body, ya know? After the war... once or twice, maybe, but mostly not... we just... well, you get it, right? Once we decided friends was good enough, we stopped doing even that."  
  
"Anyone after that?" Milliardo wondered and Duo looked surprised that he was being so calm and dismissive of it.  
  
Duo relaxed a bit, but not completely, as if, dodging one bullet, he was facing another, but less dangerous one. "I'm not proud of it," he replied in a small voice.  
  
"Casual meetings with strangers?" Milliardo asked with a frown.  
  
Duo scowled. "No! Well, sort of, I guess. They were people that I had worked with," he admitted. "I didn't let it go THAT far with them, though."  
  
"So, Heero was the only one besides myself?" Milliardo affirmed.  
  
"That bother you?" Duo wondered. His hands locked behind Milliardo's neck and he moved all the way into Milliardo's lap.  
  
"Any man would like to be the only one, Duo, but we are MEN. It's to be expected that you would be somewhat experienced at your age," Milliardo reassured him.  
  
"But does it bother you that it was Heero I was with?" Duo pressed and he looked into Milliardo's eyes intently. "What I mean is, are you going to get in Heero's face every time you see him because you can't stand the thought of him having been with me? Cuz' he's NOT going away, Mil. Heero is going to be around, a lot, and you are going to have to deal with it."  
  
Milliardo replied, "I can't say that it doesn't bother me. I'm only human, Duo. " He caressed Duo's arm and let his fingers trail down to Duo's hip. He gripped him there lightly. "Heero and I were in intense competition during the war. It's only normal that I feel-"  
  
"He's NOT competition," Duo assured him, "Or do you think you can make a straight man gay?"  
  
"If he were gay, would you be sitting on my lap now?" Milliardo asked, point blank.  
  
Duo blinked, caught off guard, but he didn't look defensive, instead, he looked fierce as he stood up a little to press his forehead against Milliardo's. "Even if Heero had been gay, we still wouldn't be together, Mil. What we had, it was NOTHING like this. I love him... like a brother, but this... This feeling I have for you is like being on fire, being hit by lightning, being wrapped up in everything good in the world. Heero and me knew that we didn't have that when we broke off a sexual relationship. We knew there was a piece missing."  
  
Milliardo enfolded Duo into his arms and held him against his heart. "I understand," he said, feeling intense emotions welling up. Yes, he thought, that was the way he felt too, as if he were holding everything good in the world in his arms. It was a powerful, overwhelming feeling and Duo had expressed it so eloquently when he, Milliardo, hadn't been able to find the words.  
  
"So," Duo said against his chest. "What about you? It's your turn to talk about your past lovers. Do I have any competition?"  
  
"None," Milliardo assured him. "None at all."  
  
"And you were a virgin?" Duo asked with a teasing laugh.  
  
Milliardo went very quiet as he considered his past, discarding the few and far between affairs, and his thoughts settled on the one man that had meant the most to him.  
  
"Who was he?" Duo asked seriously.  
  
So perceptive, Milliardo thought and sighed the name, "Treize."  
  
"Ah," Duo said thoughtfully and then simply, "Sorry."  
  
"He trained me to be everything that I am," Milliardo told him with a sigh. "He gave me a place when I didn't have anywhere to call home. I can't ever forget that. His memory will always have an honored place."  
  
Duo nodded. "I guess I feel the same way about Dr. G. He gave me my chance to be something besides a thief. He trained me and gave me a purpose in life. He gave me a chance to get my revenge, too. We weren't lovers, but, I guess he was a father figure... well, a demented father figure, but still... so, I understand about having a special place for someone. I can live with that."  
  
Milliardo ran hands gently along Duo's arm, feeling their strength. "We both have experience, but, I think we both have something to learn about a relationship like this one. We are from completely different backgrounds, we were on opposite sides of a war, we are of vastly different ranks, and I have very complicated obligations. You realize that it is going to be far from easy from this point forward?"  
  
"You're champagne in a crystal goblet and I'm soda out of a can," Duo laughed, "But I think that's a good thing. Makes life interesting. You wouldn't want me to be one of those pale, flighty, over bred, ex nobles, without a thought in my head except whether I'm wearing the latest fashion? I hope not, because I'm not even going to try for that."  
  
Milliardo chuckled. "No, I wouldn't want you to be different." He frowned and asked, "Does it bother you that I'm..." There wasn't a good way to say it.  
  
Duo smiled and understood. "I like all of that perfect correctness and your sense of duty." Duo ran fingers along Milliardo's shoulders. "I like those uniforms too... you look very... uhm... sexy in them."  
  
"Ah!" Milliardo retorted with false anger. "You're are enamored of my coats and not me. Perhaps I should direct you to a good tailor?"  
  
"Ha, ha," Duo snickered. "I think I like the man in the coats more." He shifted uncomfortably and then slid off of Milliardo's lap with a wince. He rubbed a hand along his hip. "Damn! I think I've been rubbed raw, Mil! We need a lot more foreplay next time."  
  
Milliardo grew suddenly serious. "Have I earned a next time?"  
  
Duo turned and looked at him, surprised, and then countered with, "Have I?"  
  
Milliardo stood and cupped Duo's chin. He leaned in and tasted Duo's lips and then delved into his mouth with a hot tongue. Duo was passive, allowing it, his striking, amethyst eyes closed. Milliardo broke the kiss and said in a whisper, "If you weren't hurting, I would have you again right now."  
  
Duo let out a warm breath of relief, and then said huskily, "There's other ways of having fun, Missionary Man," but then he blinked open his eyes and smiled up at Milliardo, adding regretfully, "but we don't have time. My roommate can't be left on the mat forever, you know."  
  
"Perhaps," Milliardo suggested as he slid hands to the small of Duo's back and then pulled him close, lifting him against his needy stiffness, "We can go to my home next time?"  
  
That idea seemed to make Duo nervous, but he replied, "Okay. You just say when." His pelvis did a very small rubbing motion, teasing Milliardo, stirring up a need he wasn't going to fulfill.  
  
Milliardo quirked a pale eyebrow at Duo. "You are certain that we don't have enough time?" He took Duo's hand and laid it against his erection. He could feel the heat of that touch even through his pants.  
  
"No, sorry about that," Duo replied and it almost made Milliardo angry. He almost questioned that assertion, almost demanded hotly that Duo NOT tease and take care of what he had stirred up.  
  
Milliardo dropped Duo's hand and stepped back, releasing him. He forced a smile and adjusted his pants. "All right. I can wait."  
  
"You sure?" Duo asked and his lips twitched.   
  
Milliardo took a steadying breath, willing his need to calm down. The last thing that he wanted to do was to overwhelm or pressure Duo. "Yes, I'm sure."  
  
Duo stared at him for a long moment and then, very slowly, he lowered himself to his knees in front of Milliardo. He looked up as his hands pulled down the zipper of Milliardo's pants. As Milliardo felt a hot flush of confusion and desire shoot through his body, Duo said, "Well, you passed that test."  
  
"Test?" Milliardo breathed as Duo took out his erection and smoothed a hand down it's swollen, hard length.  
  
"If you had just wanted one thing from me, you would have gotten pretty mad just then," Duo told him. "You might have tried to convince me, argued with me, even tried to force me... You didn't though. I guess... I guess this is for real, huh?"  
  
Milliardo smiled softly as he reached down and caressed Duo's cheek. "Yes, it is, Dear One."  
  
Duo grinned. "Hey! A pet name! What do I call you, hm? Blondie? Snowy? Stretch?" Duo teased as he looked up the long length of Milliardo's body. His eyes dropped down to the impressive erection twitching in his hand, "Maybe..."  
  
"Don't say it!" Milliardo warned and Duo laughed. "I like Mil," Milliardo told him firmly. "Stick with that, all right?"  
  
"Okay." Duo squeezed the tip of Milliardo's erection and Milliardo gasped and leaned back against the table. "You want be to do something with all of this, Mil?"  
  
"Yes," Milliardo hissed.  
  
Duo looked suddenly very sensual as he went on all fours. "Tell me," he urged huskily. "Tell me what to do, sir."  
  
Milliardo wasn't crude. The words didn't want to come. Duo's eyes dared him. Milliardo braced his nerve and ordered sharply in a commanding voice, "Suck it, soldier."  
  
Duo's eyes glowed. "Yes, sir," he replied dutifully and then his hot, tight, moist mouth took Milliardo in deeply. It didn't take long. The image of Duo on hands and knee's, his swollen length going in and out of his sweet mouth, and Duo's intense look of concentration, enjoyment, desire, and, yes, a glowing affection for him that couldn't be mistaken, combined to make Milliardo come in an earth shattering orgasm, his hot fluids spurting violently. Duo suddenly suckled hard and deep, taking in every drop and milking Milliardo dry. Milliardo saw him swallow convulsively, eyes half shut in concentration. When there wasn't a drop left, Duo let Milliardo's erection slide out of his mouth. He smiled up at Milliardo. "Was that okay?" Duo asked.  
  
Milliardo fell to his knees and gathered Duo into his embrace. He buried his face into Duo's soft, cinnamon hair and managed to say, "God!"  
  
"That means yes, I guess," Duo laughed against his chest. They rested like that for a few minutes, enjoying each other's closeness and warmth, and then Duo emerged abruptly and stood up, leaving Milliardo kneeling on the floor. He grinned and reached down to help Milliardo to his feet. "I was serious about not leaving Heero out there in the cold. We better wrap up the date and let him back in. I'll put some lasagna in a container and you can take it home and eat it there."  
  
"All right," Milliardo replied as he zipped up his pants and tried to put himself in order. As he watched Duo wink at him, gather up the dishes, and then go into the kitchen, Milliardo suddenly felt a flush of embarrassment. He prided himself on being under control. That last orgasm had been wrenched from him by Duo. Milliardo hadn't been able to have control over the situation or himself at all. He had been afraid of overwhelming Duo, but Duo had managed to overwhelm him instead. Milliardo wasn't sure that he wanted that to happen again. There was something raunchy about it and he wasn't the kind of man, ultimately, to find that enjoyable. Though he had enjoyed brief sexual encounters, non of them had strayed into the territory that Duo had just taken him in. It had all taken place discretely and simply.  
  
As dishes clinked and Milliardo heard Duo putting lasagna into a container, he tried to analyze why he felt that it was so wrong to have sex in that manner. He divined, in the end, that having Duo in that position, made him feel that he was failing to show respect for Duo, and that there was also a potential to taint their budding relationship by turning it into just what Duo had feared, sex and nothing more. Duo had tested him and seemed content by the result, but Milliardo knew that he could fail that test at a later date if Duo persisted in battering down his inhibitions by offering him such unbridled passions. Tenderness, caring, and, yes, love could be left by the wayside in their eagerness to indulge their passions.  
  
Milliardo determined to put a bridle on lust, especially when Duo reappeared out of the kitchen with his wrapped burden and his shirt slipping off of one rounded shoulder. His hair was escaping his braid in wisps, his eyes were sparkling, and his _expression was sated and happy. It was a completely open and vulnerable moment and Milliardo felt a tremendous urge to take hold of Duo and plunder him completely.  
  
Milliardo used his strict military training to deny himself as he took his package from Duo and said a polite, "Thank you."  
  
"Mil," Duo began, suddenly worried by Milliardo's new reserve.  
  
Milliardo's cell phone took that moment to ring. Milliardo took it from his pocket and put it to his ear. "Milliardo here." A man on the other end rattled off the situation to him in good form. "Specifics?" Milliardo demanded. The man ran down a list. "Call the men in."  
  
Milliardo hung up the phone and put the container on the table. "Freeze that," he ordered briskly, becoming the commander now. "There's a situation. I'll need you and Yuy for this. Call him and be at Preventer Headquarters in one hour." He looked at his watch and Duo snagged his off of a table. "Mark," Milliardo said and Duo nodded, noting the time.  
  
"We'll be there, sir," Duo said, in all seriousness. Duty called and they both understood that they wouldn't be lovers again until the 'situation' was resolved.  
  
Milliardo reached out and cupped Duo's chin. He smiled briefly and then let it go as he turned quickly and swept out the door.


	17. Worse Case Scenarios

In the early morning light, Milliardo knocked back yet another pill to keep himself alert and a gulp of coffee so thick it was almost mud. He ignored the curious looks thrown his way. These people weren't used to seeing him at less than his best. They were used to a Milliardo who was well rested, devoid of any personal life, and always ready for the next mission in tip top shape. He knew that he had dark circles under his eyes, that he was slumping in his chair, and that his hair was caught back in a hasty pony tail to keep the bedraggled mess out of his face as he poured over map after map. He knew that he looked far from professional.  
  
It was a hostage situation. Dissidents had holed up in a forested area far from any other inhabitants and taken with them the daughter of a very important dignitary, a rich dignitary. They threatened to kill her unless their demands were met. A regular swat team would have, usually, been dispatched to the scene, but this was different. It seemed that these desperate men had found the remains of a weapons bunker containing several mobile suits and the bare bones of a missile launch pad that the suits had been put there to protect. What their expertise was pertaining to these weapons, was an unknown factor, but they had threatened to use them.  
  
The specs on the M.S. were interesting. They were newer models, not the automated kind, but sophisticated enough to give a regular pilot pause. Milliardo had been correct in his first assumption that Heero and Duo were both going to be needed to deal with them. Deciding on his next course of action was more difficult. He didn't want any hint of doubt about his reasoning for what he wished to do next, so he allowed the people around him to advise him.  
  
Talk flew back and forth across a wide table as men examined specs and logistics covering the table top. Fingers jabbed, faces contorted, voices rose and fell. In the end, there was only one conclusion. "Sir, you are imminently qualified to deal with this particular situation," an advisor told Milliardo and the others nodded sagely in agreement. "While I don't recommend that commanders take to the field, I don't see any other option. A level head is needed and on site command decisions. Coupled with your knowledge of M.S, you are the logical choice to accompany Yuy and Maxwell."  
  
Milliardo nodded as if a great weight were being put on his shoulders, but secretly, down deep where he kept it under tight control, he was thrilled and eager for a chance to go out into the field. It was difficult to sit through the rest of the meeting and, when it was over, he found himself quickly striding to the room where his men were awaiting his orders, eager to begin the operation.  
  
"And then I said, 'Pepper is a very good sealant.', and he said, 'My ass, Maxwell!' So I stuck a hole in his radiator and poured the pepper right in. Stopped it right up!"  
  
"You are so crazy!" A man grumbled.  
  
"That's what HE said!" Duo replied in mock astonishment.   
  
There were chuckles and derisive noises that ceased as soon as Milliardo walked into the large room. Everyone came to attention then, showing the same eagerness that he, Milliardo felt. Duo's eyes were fairly glowing and Heero looked tense and ready for action. They were all dressed in Preventer one piece suits, the logo emblazoned on the breast and arm, and they all looked professional and competent. Milliardo felt a wash of pride as he quickly explained the situation.  
  
"Heero and me, then," Duo surmised at the end of the briefing, rubbing his hands briskly together in anticipation.  
  
"Yuy?" Milliardo said and Heero looked at him expectantly. "Are you and Maxwell ready for duty?"  
  
Milliardo knew that Heero would give him a true assessment whereas Duo might gloss over as much as possible to allow them to take the mission. Milliardo was well aware that their presence on the mission was crucial, but he didn't intend to make plans based on false assumptions about their abilities.  
  
"Both of us have not slept," Heero reported despite Duo's roll of the eyes expressing his exasperation, "but we are trained to operate efficiently despite that. Duo is suffering from minor pains due to s-"  
  
Duo elbowed Heero sharply in the ribs and stepped forward, grinning and saying jokingly, "Hey, Heero! No kissing and telling! I can do my job, don't you worry, sir!"  
  
There were snickers, uncomfortable looks, and one or two expressions of disgust, but Duo had managed to divert Heero from exposing Milliardo and had taken the embarrassment all on himself. Milliardo felt a wave of gratitude, but he kept his _expression slightly irritated as he said, "You had better be right, Maxwell! I'll need you and Yuy with me. We will be infiltrating the sight and disabling the suits. The rest of the men will deploy on site and await our signal to advance. You have one hour to gather your gear and meet me on the tarmac."  
  
"Saddle up!" Duo hooted, already well on his way to an adrenalin rush as he almost danced away to where the weapons and equipment were stored.   
  
Milliardo watched Duo covertly, marveling at how handsome Duo was when he was flooded with so much excitement. Mind on the mission, Milliardo snapped at himself, and he forced himself to look away as he went to make his own preparations.  
  
Reaching the target, required a hike into a wooded area. Milliardo's team moved quietly and even Duo managed to keep his joking banter to a minimum. Heero paced silently beside his partner, eyes ahead, mind perhaps working over the same variables as Milliardo. Milliardo couldn't help but wonder how well they would do working together. Milliardo couldn't imagine Heero allowing personal matters to inter into a mission, but Milliardo was finding it hard already. In trying to imagine disaster scenarios it kept coming down to, 'who will save Duo?'. That was a ridiculous thing to think, and Milliardo knew it, because Duo was more than capable of taking care of himself, but Milliardo couldn't help an instinctive urge to protect him, to make certain that nothing happened to him. He had to keep that urge from turning into action though. He had to maintain discipline no matter what happened. If he couldn't do that, then he needed to back out of the mission all together.  
  
Milliardo evaluated himself harshly, even imagined Duo in a life or death situation. He swallowed hard. It was hard to know, absolutely, what he would do in such a situation, but Milliardo thought that he could maintain discipline. A girl was depending on him and so were the people who the kidnappers would surely threaten next with their M.S.. When Milliardo thought of that, there wasn't any question in his mind about what he would do, and that firmed his resolve to continue.  
  
They reached their target point. Milliardo deployed his men around the perimeter and checked conditions one more time. The weather looked misting and threatening rain. If it did manage to rain, that would have been to their advantage, but Milliardo didn't hope for it.   
  
"With me," Milliardo said briskly and made a motion for Heero and Duo to accompany him. Heero looked even more intense, if that were possible, and Duo was fairly vibrating, his eyes shinning and his grin at full strength. These two men had been Milliardo's worst enemies during the war. Remembering how much damage they had caused to machinery and installations, how many soldiers they had killed wholesale without hesitation, and how they had repeatedly risked their lives, Milliardo couldn't help feeling a sudden chill. They were under his command, as much ultimate weapons as the M.S. they were about to deal with, and one of the deadly pair was his lover. Remembering that wiry body, the passionate Duo groaning and moaning beneath him, Milliardo felt as if he had danced with Shinigami in earnest in the sheets and not a handsome young man claiming the name.  
  
"Booby traps," Milliardo whispered as they slipped through the thick ferns and trees. Heero frowned as if irritated that Milliardo had felt the need to warn him. Duo only nodded, eyes already scanning everything minutely.  
  
Heero and Duo were a team, Milliardo saw, working in perfect tandem. Heero looked one way and Duo looked another, keeping in a two person formation ahead of Milliardo. He almost halted them to criticize, but then saw that he wasn't excluded. They glanced back at him as constantly as they looked at everything else about them, checking to make certain that they weren't missing any silent signals from him. He was in command, those actions said, and Milliardo felt more confident.  
  
They found several traps, Duo's sharp eyes picking them out. They didn't disarm them, for fear of arousing their targets suspicion. Instead, they found a way to circumvent each one and pass safely by.  
  
"Proximity alert," Duo whispered and pulled out his gun. "Point?" he asked and looked for permission from Milliardo.  
  
Milliardo nodded and watched Duo disappear into the forest ahead of them. Hunkering down with Heero, Milliardo waited. He noticed how tense Heero was. The man's gun was out and his hand was flexing on it, watching the spot where Duo had gone as if it was everything that he could do not to follow.   
  
Duo returned, breathing hard and face looking pale. His grin was forced. "Guard eliminated. Entrance clear."  
  
One guard? Milliardo was suspicious, but they were committed now. The guard's absence would be noticed eventually. Milliardo made a sign that asked for the mode that Duo had used to dispatch the guard. When Duo made a motion across his throat, Milliardo thought that he understood why Duo was so pale. The guard wouldn't be the one to give away their presence. Milliardo lamented the loss of life. He had to trust that it had been necessary.   
  
Every instinct within Milliardo was warning him as they approached the solid, metal hanger doors. Through them was a ramp that led underground, he knew. Though it was some way from the main complex, the M.S. were the dissidents major defense. Leaving them so shoddily guarded, Milliardo had to assume one of three things. Either they were very few, they knew nothing about operating the machines, or, thirdly, they were all inside and waiting for them.  
  
"Point," Heero whispered and Milliardo nodded. It was better to send one man in first to spring any traps rather than all of them getting caught.  
  
"Point," Duo argued with a fierce look at Heero. "Experienced."  
  
Milliardo glared at them both, wondering what Duo meant by, 'experienced'. He began to hotly motion for Yuy to go forward when Duo pointed to his back. It was a simple gesture, but the pained look in Duo's eyes was enough to remind Milliardo of the scars there and that Duo had escaped from impossible odds in a previous ambush. When Milliardo thought about that, about how disadvantaged Duo had been in that fight, he wondered how Duo had managed it. He seemed very confident that, if he was ambushed again, he could handle the situation.  
  
"Go," Milliardo ordered.  
  
Duo grinned even as Heero scowled in disapproval. He didn't hesitate as he turned and slipped through the hanger doors.  
  
There were several crashes and shouts. Something slammed into the other side of the hanger door and then Duo came running out, dragging a man attached to his shirt. The man was hanging on grimly and raising up a handgun to fire. Duo spun, rammed an elbow into the man's gut and then kneed him in the face when he doubled over. Freed, Duo sprinted towards Milliardo and Heero, waving frantically with both hands for them to run as well.  
  
They began running into the underbrush and the thicker trees, but, when Milliardo glanced over his shoulder, he saw that Duo wasn't going as fast as he could have and that he had one arm pressed close to his side. Heero saw it as well and moved as if to help his partner. It was then that a dozen men came crashing through the brush and the obstructing branches of the trees after them, weapons nosing for targets.  
  
Milliardo stopped, shouting at Heero as he crouched, "Cover fire!"   
  
Heero turned and used a tree for protection as he aimed his gun, but because of Duo and the closeness of the forest, he was forced to take slow, careful shots at their attackers. It wouldn't hold them back long, Milliardo knew, and pulled out his cell to call for his troops to extract them and move on the hanger.   
  
"Duo's gone!" Heero exclaimed.  
  
Milliardo dropped his cell into his pocket and scanned the forest anxiously. "He might be hiding," he suggested and then ducked and scrambled to get behind Heero as shots hit the trees and the dirt all around them.  
  
"Trying to ambush them most likely," Heero replied and then fired a few rounds. "They'll rush us when they realize that we don't have much firepower, sir."  
  
"No," Milliardo reasoned. "They'll fall back, to the hanger if they know how to use the M.S., or to the compound itself if they don't. I'm certain that they realize that we didn't come alone."  
  
"Do you expect intelligence from men who thought that they could bargain from an indefensible position?" Heero replied tersely.  
  
"Since we don't have M.S. to stop them should they use theirs, I hardly see their position as indefensible," Milliardo replied dryly. More bullets peppered their surroundings. One slapped the sleeve of Milliardo's jacket. He winced as he took aim and fired his gun at the spot where he thought the bullet had come from. The missing Duo began to bother Milliardo. When his men appeared and began firing, he fully expected Duo to make some move. When he didn't, Milliardo couldn't indulge in worrying about him. He had to give orders and deploy his men and it was some time before they could press forward and force the kidnappers to retreat. He could see Heero at point, eyes searching the brush and the ferns for some sign of Duo. By the grim, paleness of his face, Milliardo had a feeling that Heero was looking for Duo's corpse. The thought chilled him to the bone.  
  
"Unit B," Milliardo ordered, "extract the hostage."  
  
Men broke off and disappeared into the trees. They would do what they could, but, like Duo, Milliardo couldn't be distracted by one life from a danger that might cause many people to lose their lives. The M.S. had to be taken out.  
  
"Bodies!" Heero called and he bent to examine them. They were very close to the hanger again. Milliardo waited with his heart in his throat and then Heero reported in relief. "They were killed with a razor knife. Duo's knife."  
  
Milliardo frowned. His mind worked on scenarios as they moved forward and he didn't like the ones that kept ending up with Duo acting without orders and returning to the hanger. It was logical, Milliardo knew, especially if the targets had sent most of their men out to repel their attack. Still, to act without clear orders, not knowing what Milliardo's plans were... Milliardo felt concern and the slow burn of anger at the same time.  
  
The hanger doors were well guarded. Shots and pressure bombs flew. Milliardo and his men crouched behind blast shields and returned fire. The shell of the building was too thick for an aerial bombing, protected by the rock and a material that was laced with gundanium. The only way in was through the hanger doors and Milliardo had brought a weapon powerful enough to take them out. He had thought to take the M.S. by stealth and with the least amount of bloodshed, but their options had narrowed. Either they broke through the defenses or he would have to give the order to take out the inside of the entire complex. There wasn't any telling who was inside or what damage they might ultimately do. It was a gamble, but one Milliardo might be forced to take.  
  
Suddenly the shooting stopped. Milliardo called a cease fire and waited. His men were prepared already for any order he gave them. He only had to give a hand signal. He could afford to make certain that the men inside the hanger weren't about to give up. When he saw the girl thrust outside of the hanger, her hands tied behind her back and a gag in her mouth, he gasped. The machine gun pressed to her forehead was an obvious threat. They weren't surrendering.  
  
"Permission to move in and extract the hostage when there is an opportunity?" Heero requested in a hard voice at Milliardo's elbow.  
  
"Granted," Milliardo returned curtly. "They are buying time for some action, that's obvious, and I may have to order the target taken out despite the casualties, Yuy."  
  
Heero nodded and moved forward to position himself to best advantage. There still weren't any demands. The girl was simply held in place, a shield that they must have hoped would hold Milliardo back. That they didn't have any plan beyond that was too much to hope for. Milliardo looked into the frightened girl's eyes and then looked away, gritting his teeth in frustration. He waited, grasping at the slim hope that some sort of demand would be made eventually, that the dissidents would want to bargain, but nothing happened.   
  
"Yuy!" Milliardo called at last, "Stand down." He reluctantly made a motion towards the men manning their most powerful weapon and then gave the order for the rest of his men to fall back.  
  
Milliardo knew that his hands were shaking, knew that he was on the thin edge of wanting to scream against the murder he was about to do, but he also knew that he had been left without any other choice. A little girl was about to die and Duo.... if he had gone back into the hanger, was about to die too.  
  
It was all on Milliardo's head. He had killed in war many times and had been taken over by the zero system and contemplated worse mayhem than any man could imagine. His hands were steeped in blood. A few more lives shouldn't have mattered, yet Milliardo felt a blackness over taking him, a sickening knowledge that this was different. He couldn't manage the cold detachment of a general. He couldn't make himself stand by with the comfort that it was necessary. Milliardo turned, gave a curt order to his second to take command of the operation, and then took a high powered machine gun from one of his men. Without saying anything more, he began walking back towards the hanger. It was a moment before he realized that Heero was pacing beside him and that he had an air about him that dared Milliardo to order him back. Milliardo only smiled tightly and nodded, giving him silent permission. They had five minutes before weapons were powered up and ready to discharge; five minutes to save a life or commit suicide in a hail of bullets. Milliardo found that much more acceptable than doing cold murder behind a blast shield.


	18. Duty Calls

"Blind side," Heero said as they came to where the doors were. He pointed to the left. Milliardo nodded. That view was blocked by a door and the girl standing outside of it. Unless the dissidents wanted to risk themselves, they couldn't move out far enough to see them.  
  
"Surveillance?" Milliardo wondered. It was possible that there were monitors.  
  
Heero shrugged and Milliardo nodded grimly. It didn't matter, he thought, whether they were seen or not. They were still going to attempt their rescue.  
  
Heero pointed to Milliardo. "Cover fire."  
  
Milliardo began to argue and then didn't and nodded his agreement. He was larger than the ex-pilot of Wing beside him, but Heero was better trained and stronger. If it came to carrying the girl and getting away in time, Heero was the logical choice. Milliardo knew that his role wasn't much safer. He was going to have to move out of hiding and fire as close to the girl as he could to keep the men off balance and undercover.  
  
"Three minutes," Milliardo warned Heero. Three minutes until the weapon was fired.  
  
"Understood," Heero replied grimly.  
  
Milliardo sized up the impossible situation one more time, braced his nerve, and then ordered, "Go!"  
  
It was like a dance, everything seeming to slow down; fluid, graceful, deadly. Milliardo fired his gun and saw the bullets whiz by so close to the girl's face that some of her hair whipped back. She flinched sideways, especially when men began screaming and fire was returned. That movement to the side was the perfect opportunity that Milliardo needed. Whoever had their hands on her was suddenly gone in a spray of blood as Milliardo concentrated his fire on him.   
  
Heero was already sprinting across the small clearing. He was fast, agile, and his body easily cleared underbrush and the few pieces of equipment in his way to reach the girl's side. He grabbed her and didn't wait to see if she could follow him on her own. Putting her in a fireman's carry, Heero immediately sprinted back for the forest as if her weight was inconsequential. Two men leaned out of the hanger door, daring, faces twisted in hate and anger, and began firing after him. Milliardo saw bullets send bits of tree trunk flying all around Heero's head before Milliardo's return fire took the men out.  
  
Milliardo didn't wait to see Heero make it to the safety of the trees. He never doubted that the man would make it. His own safety was in doubt, though, as the last minute ticked off of Milliardo's watch and the alarm went off. Running for the forest, he heard the weapon powering up loudly. He had given orders for the weapon to be fired no matter what and all that Milliardo could do now was to bug out and hope for the best.  
  
Milliardo felt a bullet slice past his shoulder and he flinched and grabbed at the wound as he staggered and lost his balance. He went sprawling into the dirt and bullets splattered all around him. Instinctively, he covered his head.  
  
Milliardo heard the clang of the hanger doors running over their tracks as they opened completely. Rolling to his feet, Milliardo looked back. He wasn't being fired at any longer. Instead, the men, probably hearing the big gun as well, were playing their trump card. They were going to attack with a mobile suit. The hair on the back of Milliardo's neck stood up as the thing, a dull gray and tan model with a pair of beam rifles, came lumbering out, shaking the ground with every step.  
  
Milliardo knew that it was useless as soon as he began running again. The M.S. was already leveling a rifle at his back. It would get his shot off long before the weapon fired. Milliardo couldn't help looking back and then stopped in the shelter of some large trees. The M.S. was moving awkwardly, the arm with the rifle lowering and rising as some inexperienced person tried to make it work. Milliardo found himself grinning. Whoever was inside it, had little or no experience.  
  
A sudden blast threw Milliardo backwards and he felt shrapnel rip into his chest, neck, and already abused arm. He landed on his ass, dazed, a large part of an M.S. hand lying in smoking, hot ruin next to his head. It was more than a second before his mind realized that the big weapon hadn't fired. Pieces of M.S. all around him were the product of an explosion, not the beam cannon his men had been about to use on the hanger.  
  
"Duo!" Milliardo gasped, knowing that man's handiwork instantly.  
  
Another explosion rocked the inside of the hanger and men began pouring out in frantic haste. Milliardo's cell beeped. He whipped it out and shouted, "Why haven't you fired the weapon?"  
  
"Malfunction, sir," his man on the other end reported. "Orders?"  
  
"Move in! Group B , left flank, group D, point, and group C, right flank. Advance on targets, not hanger. I repeat, do not enter hanger. More explosions are probably imminent."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
There was another explosion and the ground bucked, the hanger walls resounding with the force. More men ran out, screaming, and some of them were on fire.  
  
"Permission to extract Duo!" Heero shouted as he raced by Milliardo.  
  
Milliardo didn't have time to wonder what the man would have done if he had said, no. He replied, "Permission granted!" and ran after Heero, intent on the same goal, but he threw at the man's retreating back, "Disable mobile suits at all costs: top priority!"  
  
"Acknowledged!" Heero shouted back at him.  
  
Music began blaring suddenly as they slowed and cautiously slipped into the hanger. The rhythm of a dark rock song washed over them. 'Someone's gonna die, d-d-d-die!' The lyrics pulsed with the frantic drum beat. Milliardo glanced at Heero and was startled to see him grinning with almost manic glee.  
  
"Duo," Heero said simply.  
  
Smoke was billowing and fire was licking at the blast points. They seemed random until Milliardo saw tables, chairs, scattered weapons, and corpses. Someone had destroyed the firepower and a number of the enemy very effectively.  
  
"You son of a bitch!" A voice shouted furiously. Shots rang out. "You blow that and we'll all die, including you! What are you, crazy?!"  
  
"Hey, man! You're the one shooting at a guy setting an explosive charge!" Duo's voice called back raggedly. "These suits are going down and nothing's going to stop me!"  
  
The music was coming from a high scaffolding along the side of one of the M.S. A man was standing a level beneath that point, looking furious and pointing a gun upwards with both hands. He fired his gun again and wood from the upper platform flew as bullets peppered it.  
  
"Missed me!" Duo called out in a gleeful singsong voice. "No wonder you guys are losing! You're crappy strategists and even crappier shots!"  
  
"Hold it right there!" Milliardo shouted as he and Heero pounded up to the platform and trained their guns at the man. The man looked down in defeat and then his _expression firmed. Milliardo wasn't surprised when he leveled his gun at them. The man was committing suicide, unwilling to live with failure.  
  
"Duo!" Heero shouted even as Milliardo and the man fired their weapons at the same time. "Area secured!"  
  
"Too late, buddy!" Duo called back regretfully. "Three minutes, mark! Bug out now!"  
  
The man jerked and shuddered as he was filled with bullets. He fell backwards and took the long fall to the concrete floor of the hanger. Milliardo and Heero flinched as several bullets passed by them closely, but none hit their targets as they both shouldered their weapons and began climbing the scaffolding.  
  
"Duo!" Milliardo shouted, refusing to let his wounded arm slow him. "Status?"  
  
"I told you to bug out!" Duo almost screamed it. "They caught me and managed to beat me up some before I got away. I'm wounded, down for good! You don't have time for extraction! Get the hell out!"  
  
"Heero!" Milliardo shouted, wanting with all that was in him to reach Duo and save him, but knowing that the man beside him was far more capable. "Extract Duo, now!"  
  
Heero nodded grimly and shot forward, his muscles bunching and flexing noticeably as he pushed them to their limit and climbed the scaffolding with incredible speed. Milliardo continued to climb, knowing that Heero might need help, but feeling helpless in the face of Heero's super human abilities. He couldn't help the awe that he felt and wondered, not for the first time, just who and what Heero was. A normal man couldn't have made it to the top of the platform as quickly as Heero did, or slung a wounded man, however slight, onto his shoulders and climbed down again. Heero did it all easily.  
  
Duo clung to Heero, cursing him profusely and so foully that Milliardo blinked in shock. His hair was half out of his braid and a very large bruise was coloring one side of his face. His lips were bleeding and Milliardo could see a large, dark stain on his side. Blood dripped down from that wound in steady droplets.  
  
"Duo!' Milliardo exclaimed in fear and shock, realizing that Duo was bleeding to death and that they couldn't halt and stop it. They needed to get down and get him to a medic as quickly as possible. Milliardo longed to help accomplish that, but all he could do was climb down with Heero, ready to offer a steadying hand if Duo lost his balance on he precarious perch.  
  
Heero didn't need his help, though. The young man was climbing down quickly, Duo balancing as securely as a cat across his shoulders and managing not to move despite his continuous verbal assault and his injured condition. Through it all, music was still playing, throbbing through the air. It was coming from Duo's hip, a player of some sort.  
  
"Music. Off!" Heero snapped, his only reply to Duo's tirade.  
  
Duo reached down and slapped the off button without argument and the crackling of the fire came loudly to them then. Smoke was choking them and visibility was quickly fading.  
  
"Milliardo, Sir!" A voice called from below and Milliardo knew that his men were in the building and that the dissidents had been defeated.  
  
"Retreat!" Milliardo shouted instantly. "There's a bomb!"  
  
He heard barked orders and there was no one to greet him when his feet touched the concrete floor. Heero was down shortly after and he didn't acknowledge Milliardo's offer of help, but began a steady trot towards the hanger doors.  
  
Duo looked over at Milliardo and grinned uneasily as he bounced on Heero's shoulders. The grin looked manic though and Milliardo could see that Duo was frightened, not for himself, but for Milliardo. Duo reached out a bloody, grimy hand and Milliardo touched it briefly without breaking stride. It was all the closeness that they could manage in that situation.  
  
"You two are fricken' idiots, if you don't mind me saying so, sir!" Duo growled, but his heart was in his eyes, taking the sting out of it.  
  
Milliardo smiled and he would have laughed if he wasn't so afraid that it would sound hysterical. "For you, yes, Heero and I are idiots!" he replied.  
  
"And you try and blow us up for our trouble!" Heero snorted, managing to express grim amusement even as he ran under Duo's weight.  
  
Duo blinked at them both and then he laughed and it was... Milliardo tried to understand it. The laugh sounded amused, happy, surprised, but all wrapped up with an intensity that made the hairs on Milliardo's neck stand up. It came to him then, that Duo didn't think that they were going to make it.  
  
"Move faster!" Milliardo shouted.  
  
"No, damn time!," Duo lamented and then looked back at Milliardo as they cleared the hanger doors. "I love you, ya know?" and then put his face next to Heero's as he jolted on the man's shoulders, "and you're the best damned friend anyone could ever have."  
  
"Shut up, baka!" Heero panted back angrily. "Your talking is making wind resistance!"  
  
"Hah!" Duo snorted. "A joke from Heero Yuy in my last moments!"  
  
And then the blast hit their backs and Milliardo realized that Duo was right, they weren't going to make it. As he felt pain rifle over his back, and he was thrown into the dirt, he sourly wondered at himself for doubting a bomb expert and hoping that, for once, Duo was wrong. 

+  
  
Milliardo did something that he never thought that he would do again, he opened his eyes. They were sore, and dry, and the light bothered them. He blinked and tried to focus. White predominated everything and then a face came into his view. A light was shone in his eyes. THAT was not what he needed just then. He squinted and turned his face away.   
  
"He's coming around," a male voice said. "Contusions on his back. Shrapnel, but nothing in vital areas. He'll survive. I would really like to know why one of the Preventer's premier commanders was pulling a stunt like that in the field. I'm sure there will be questions. I should copy my medical report in quadruplicate. The officers will all want their own copy."  
  
A female voice wondered, "Is quadruplicate a word, Dr.?"  
  
"When it comes to bureaucratic paperwork, it is," the Dr. replied. Milliardo felt the cold touch of hands feeling along a very sore place on his arm. "Plasti-seal is working nicely." The face leaned into his view again. "Are you alert, sir? Can you understand me?"  
  
Milliardo nodded shakily and then asked the first thing on his mind. "Agents... Yuy.... Maxwell..." His mouth was as dry as a bone and his vocal chords didn't want to function.  
  
"Both alive," the doctor assured him and Milliardo felt a relief so sharp that it was painful. "Maxwell has a knife wound along his side, but it's a cut across his ribcage and not into his lung. He received a transfusion due to blood loss, and he seems to have taken a beating on his upper body. His collar bone is cracked and his right shoulder had to be placed back into its socket. He has a welding torch burn on his neck, cuts to his hands, a broken index finger on his left hand, and minor shrapnel wounds all over his back. He is awake, now, and making loud demands for his release."  
  
"Yuy?" Milliardo prompted.  
  
"He has the lightest injuries," the doctor informed him, "but he is unconscious as of yet, due to a concussion and severe physical distress. I've seen it before when someone pushes themselves to the limit. All of their reserves are depleted and they simply collapse. From the way his muscles are twitching with spasm, I'll hazard an early diagnosis and tell you that he has probably strained most of the muscles in his body. He should be placed on muscle relaxants and pain medication for several days."  
  
"Casualties?" Milliardo asked then, turning to his other major concern.  
  
"Three," the Dr. replied and said their names and cause of death for each one.  
  
Milliardo felt a pain at every name and then listened intently to how they had died. His mind wasn't at a hundred percent, but he thought that none of his decisions had caused those deaths and, though he was deeply saddened by them, he couldn't help a sense of relief as well.   
  
"Get the hell out of our way!" Duo's voice snarled.  
  
"I strongly suggest that you not interfere!" Heero's voice said closely on the heels of that and then both men came into the room, Heero in a motorized wheel chair and Duo leaning on it and using it to help him walk. Three male nurses were trailing after them along with a security guard, though the man was looking confused, probably wondering how dangerous two injured men could be.  
  
The doctor raised an eyebrow, but seemed used to the idiocies of soldiers. "I wasn't aware that is was visiting hours, gentlemen."  
  
"Special case," Duo quipped back and winked dangerously. "I suggest that you wait outside that door for a bit. We'll call you when we're done."  
  
"There are laws against threatening civilians," Milliardo said roughly. Duo snagged a water bottle from a table and handed it to Milliardo. Milliardo sipped at the straw gratefully and then said, clearer, "You will cease your actions, now, and put yourselves on report."  
  
"Yes, sir," Duo replied as he sat on the edge of Milliardo's bed wearily, "but not before I've made sure that my commander is all right." He leaned forward and kissed Milliardo softly on the lips. There was a hint of uncertainty to it, but Milliardo returned the kiss, a little constrained and embarrassed by Heero's presence, and then looked at Duo's happy face seriously.  
  
"Your report should make interesting reading, Agent Maxwell," Milliardo said. "I do hope that all of your actions were justified?"  
  
"They were, but we can go over all of that later," Duo admonished him. "Doc said that you were okay, but are you, really?"  
  
"Why would he lie?" Milliardo wondered and then relented when he saw Duo's frustration. "I feel all right. "  
  
Duo looked relieved then and looked back at Heero. Heero looked pale, weak, but determined. "Good," Duo said, "'cuz we're making a jail break and getting out of here. Want to come along? That is, if you can move under your own power? I don't think I can help you out if you can't." His dislocated shoulder was strapped and so was his broken finger. Bandages peppered his very pale skin everywhere.  
  
Milliardo almost argued, almost ordered them back to their beds, but something stopped him, a sense that his orders were going to be ignored. He could have become angry about that, called for security, and forced them to comply for their own good, but, instead, he thought of the long days he himself would be confined to the hospital until doctors deemed him well enough to leave. He thought of bland hospital food, uncomfortable beds, and invasive routines. Milliardo felt a wash of rebellion flow through him, an urge to cast away all restraint and join those mad men. Something stopped him before he could utter an agreement, though, a sense of duty and what was proper grinding that rebellion to a halt.  
  
Duo saw it and he smiled down into Milliardo's eyes and said, "That's okay, Mil. Don't be sorry for having common sense and going by the book. That's what makes you what you are, the guy I love, okay? Don't think you have to be any different."  
  
Milliardo touched Duo's cheek, stroked it, and replied, "I don't think that and I'm not sorry for following the rules. You and Heero are on report, love of mine."  
  
Duo sighed and rolled his eyes as if he were a disappointed child, but the smile hadn't left his lips. "That's two reports on us, Heero. We're going to have to come up with some fancy explanations to clear our good names."   
  
"Why do I imagine that you will?" Milliardo replied sourly.   
  
"See, Heero?" Duo chuckled. "He has faith in us."  
  
Milliardo gripped Duo's arm suddenly, all amusement fading. "Duo, I...." He thought about almost losing him and it made his heart constrict painfully. Duo leaned close and looked into Milliardo's eyes, his amusement fading as well.  
  
"It's all right, love," Duo said fiercely and leaned forward to press his face against Milliardo's, kissing him several times. "We made it. We're all safe. If you want... maybe I should stay here with you?"  
  
Milliardo didn't misunderstand how difficult the offer was for Duo. Duo was willing to stay in a place that he feared and hated, among strangers that he didn't trust, for him. Duo's aversion to hospitals and doctors, born after that attack long ago, after being reluctantly treated by uncaring doctors who had wanted him dead, was well know to Milliardo. That Duo offered, told him how deeply Duo cared for him.  
  
Heero sounded like the soldier he was as he offered, as if they were in enemy territory, "I will stay and guard the both of you, if Duo remains."  
  
The offer was ridiculous. Milliardo could see that Heero was almost done in by simply sitting in his wheelchair. It made him consider the man, consider the relationship that Heero had with Duo; something that he hadn't wanted to face. This man wasn't going to go away because he, Milliardo, was having a relationship now with Duo, and, Milliardo discovered, he didn't really want Heero to go away. They had bonded on that mission, found common ground, and had worked together to save the person that they both loved. If they could do that, if they could trust their lives to each other, and trust each other to save Duo's life, then couldn't they also trust each other enough to share Duo's affections? Those affections were different, after all. Heero was Duo's friend and Milliardo was Duo's lover. As Duo had said several times, Heero and Milliardo were not competing with each other. What he wanted to give each of them was completely different.  
  
"What are you thinking about so hard?" Duo wondered, amused, but a little worried too by Milliardo's silence.  
  
"That you don't have to stay," Milliardo replied thoughtfully, "and..."  
  
"And?" Duo prompted.  
  
"That I need to look into buying a house with a set of separate living quarters," Milliardo finished.  
  
Duo looked confused now, as if he wondered if Milliardo were hallucinating and whether he needing to call his doctor or not. "Why....?"  
  
"You wouldn't want Heero to sleep on the couch when you move in with me, would you?" Milliardo replied, faking crossness. He covered up his embarrassed and fear of rejection by trying to get comfortable on the hard mattress of the bed and allowing his real pain and weariness to show.  
  
"I am capable of living on my own," Heero spoke up surprisingly. "Your offer is generous, but not necessary, sir." It was very obvious that what he was saying was not what he wanted. Heero's voice was strained, as if he were forcing himself to say the words.  
  
Duo said, and Milliardo could hear his fear, the fear that came from numerous rejections due to his closeness with Heero, "I know it's strange, and that it's hard to understand, but, I need Heero with me. He's my friend. I know he feels the same way."  
  
"I understand," Milliardo replied and took Duo's good hand in his, ceasing trying to cover up his emotions so that he could reassure Duo. "There isn't anyone else like us. We are all Gundam pilots. We all came through a terrible war. No one will ever understand us as we understand each other. You and Heero came together under intense circumstances and you learned to depend on each other. I'm not going to force you to do other wise now. You accept me for the way that I am, I will not do any less when it comes to you, Duo." He smiled. "Besides, I grew up in a house filled with servants, guards, and aristocracy. After that, I spent time exclusively in the company of soldiers and the barracks. Why living with one man, beside the one that I care about, disturb me?"  
  
Duo thought about that and then visibly relaxed and looked so happy that his eyes seemed to glow. Milliardo thought that he would have agreed to live with a thousand men just to keep that _expression on Duo's face.   
  
Milliardo looked past Duo to Heero. "If you are going to your home to recover, I leave Duo's welfare in your hands, Yuy, and I trust, that if he becomes worse, instead of better, that you will return to the hospital."  
  
"Yes, sir," Heero replied promptly.  
  
"Mil," Mil corrected him and Heero blinked. "If you're going to be living with me, you need to learn to be less formal."  
  
"Yes, si- Mil," Heero corrected himself and a small smile played on his lips. "Thank you."  
  
Milliardo was going to reply, but his lips were suddenly covered by Duo's and Duo was kissing him deeply, unmindful of his injured lips. Duo was smiling, that happy glow even more intense. "Jeez, I love you!" Duo exclaimed around the kiss. "You just seem too damned good to be true!"  
  
Milliardo felt a powerful emotion take hold of him. He slid arms around Duo, careful of his injuries, and Duo pressed against him in a masculine, one armed hug. "You snuck into my soul, Duo, " Milliardo whispered lovingly into his ear, "When I was least expecting it. I was slow understanding my feelings. You were the last person that I expected to fall in love with."  
  
"Thought you'd go for some stuffy politician's son, right?" Duo chuckled against his throat. "Tea at twelve, the formal dinner party at six, and all that? If you ask me, that sort of things sounds a lot more unlikely for someone like you. You just didn't know yourself. I had to come along and shake you out of your cobwebs."  
  
"When I thought we were dead, when those bombs exploded..." Milliardo swallowed hard. "I used more colorful language than you did to myself for dragging my feet for so long about this." He smoothed a hand over Duo's hair, over his cheek, and then curled it around Duo's hand. "I'm not going to risk having to regret again. I'm not going to drag my feet any more. I want you with me, at my side, Duo Maxwell, every part of you, even though I know one of those parts is Heero Yuy. We proved that we can be a team, that we are even somewhat alike in what we want and our methods." Milliardo looked past Duo and smiled as Heero nodded gravely. "I know that I can accept him into our life together."  
  
Duo snickered and sat up, looking at Milliardo mischievously, but his heart was in his eyes when he said, "Heero does have a life, ya know, Mil? He's not like my Siamese twin, or anything. I've spent time getting him out of that military shell and into normal life. Because of me, he attends clubs, talks to people, does needlepoint..."  
  
"Needlepoint?" Milliardo echoed, confused.  
  
Duo laughed, "Just kidding!"  
  
"That's not very funny," Heero grumbled and then said, "What he's trying to say, is that I'm not going to be sleeping at your feet, Mil, or guarding your door twenty four-seven, but there is something that Duo and I have found in each other, a friendship and an understanding that we never want to lose. We trust each other implicitly. I don't think we could ever find that with someone else. Being apart for long is not something that I wish to contemplate."  
  
"Me either," Duo said seriously, never taking his eyes from Milliardo.  
  
Milliardo knew what Duo wanted. He wanted to be certain that Milliardo wasn't accepting a bad deal simply to have him. Milliardo squeezed Duo's hand and said, with all the feeling he felt for Duo in his voice, "When princes fall in love with soldiers, than what does the rest of conventionality matter?"   
  
Milliardo had only thought that Duo glowed before. Now, Duo was blazing like the sun, his eyes dancing with love and delight. When his lips seized Milliardo's and Duo kissed him as if he wanted to pull Milliardo into his soul, Milliardo knew that he would never regret his decision.


	19. Epilogue

The house was very business like, two stories with a no nonsense design; spartan Danish furniture arranged tastefully with mechanical designs of Gundams and other battle machines on the walls. It had three separate bedrooms, though one had a larger bed than the other two, a well outfitted gym, a swimming pool, and a large backyard that was unusual for a home set inside the crowded city. It was an expensive home, but not too expensive for a prince of the Sanq kingdom.  
  
"I'm not used to nature," Duo complained as he shifted nervously and watched a squirrel hop about the yard and then spring into one of the shade trees. Seated on the steps at the back of the house, he looked ruefully at the bigger man sitting next to him. Both of them were dressed casually in jeans and tshirts, but where Milliardo was leaning back on both elbows and relaxed, Duo was a tight bundle of nerves. "You could have saved a lot of money by just getting an apartment. Me and Heero aren't used to much. We would have been right at home."  
  
Milliardo chuckled. He reached out and pulled Duo too him, cushioning Duo on his wide chest, "You'll get used to it, love."  
  
Duo grinned and gave up his vigilant stance against the squirrel, his cheek resting against Milliardo's heart. Looking down Milliardo's long, lean waist, he commented, "Your jeans look kind of tight, Mil."  
  
Milliardo quirked a smile and shifted himself uncomfortably. Their relationship was still so new that Duo's touch could still arouse him instantly. The feel of Duo's wiry strength against him, his masculine scent, and the way his arms held him fiercely, as if Milliardo might contemplate trying to get away, all combined to make his body feel very hot and bothered.  
  
"Ya know," Duo drawled. "We have some pretty high walls around this place and Heero's not due back for awhile.... I could, maybe, take care of that for you." His hand slid down and cupped Milliardo's bulge. He found the head of Milliardo's erection and rubbed it with his thumb.  
  
Milliardo caught Duo's hand and moved it, blushing and feeling uncomfortable. "I don't think so, soldier."  
  
Duo sighed. "You're too self conscious, Mil. Nobody can see us."  
  
Mil smoothed a hand over Duo's hair. "I have an acute sense of what is proper, Duo. Get used to it."  
  
"Oh, really?" Duo laughed. "How 'firm' is your resolve, hm?" He slipped down and rested his cheek on Milliardo's erection. Milliardo caught his bottom lip between his teeth and suddenly found it hard to breathe. Duo turned his head and looked at him, grinning and eyes sparkling. Very slowly, he kissed the front of Milliardo's pants and Milliardo felt a definite sensation of tongue. He couldn't help the shiver and he was putty in Duo's hands when Duo began to unzip his pants with a smirk of triumph.  
  
There was the definite sound of someone in the house. Duo sat up like a shot and reached under his shirt for a weapon. Milliardo hadn't known that he was armed. As he zipped up his pants and turned towards the french doors behind them, wishing that he had his own weapon, he saw Duo relax and take his hand away from whatever weapon was concealed on his person.  
  
"Heero," Duo said gently, knowing somehow that the sounds were coming from his friend. He kissed Milliardo on the lips apologetically and settled against him on the steps once more, both of their passions cooled.  
  
Milliardo wasn't angry at Heero's entrance as the young man came out of the house onto the back steps. He felt grateful instead. He was never going to be an exhibitionist and his young lover needed to learn that. He might have enjoyed Duo's love play, but, afterward, he wouldn't have felt right about it.  
  
Heero looked at them nervously, afraid that he was intruding, but Milliardo gave him an easy smile and Heero gained confidence by that. Milliardo had found Heero a very clean, polite, and tactful house mate. He was quiet, almost comforting in his solid presence, and he seemed to have an uncanny ability to disappear whenever Milliardo or Duo wished to spend time with each other. Milliardo had worried about that at first, worried that Heero was a shadow, living on the borers of their life, but he had found, on the contrary, that Heero did have his own life, his own activities, and his own circle of friends, due to Duo's tenacity in bringing the soldier out of his shell of training. Though it was clear that he and Duo had a very special bond of friendship, it wasn't stifling or exclusive. They needed each other, would probably always have that need, but it didn't cripple them. Milliardo came to understand that need over the short time that they had been living together. He, himself, had grown to appreciate having people around him now who understood the life that he had lead and understood his soldier attitude and way of doing things. Heero and Duo had found life unbearable without each other, Milliardo could easily see himself becoming the same way.  
  
Heero sat down on the steps next to them. Duo lounged in Milliardo's lap, staring at his close friend suspiciously. "What's wrong, Heero?"  
  
Milliardo was startled, but, when he looked at Heero's face, he saw the grim, set _expression that the young man always wore. Heero's hands were clenched in his lap, though, and he seemed very intent on the grass at the foot of the steps.  
  
"Heero?" Milliardo prodded. "If there is something troubling you, please tell us."  
  
"I..." Heero looked even grimmer.  
  
Duo leaned out of Milliardo's lap and grabbed Heero's arm, pinching him sharply. Heero winced and glared. "Out with it!" Duo commanded. "You're wound up like a spring."  
  
Milliardo couldn't see any sign of that, but Heero was obviously reluctant to talk, yet, compelled to all the same as he searched for words. That in itself was unusual. Heero Yuy was not the kind of man to be tongue tied.  
  
"This home is your home," Milliardo reassured him, suspecting that Heero, perhaps, needed something and was reluctant to ask for it. "If there is something that you need, some suggestion that you want to make-"  
  
"Heero, if you got something wrong, just tell us!" Duo interjected impatiently.  
  
"Not... wrong," Heero managed. "Something... something I want."  
  
Duo gave a long suffering sigh. "We've already been over this, Heero! You are allowed to want and have things... well, within reason. If you wanted to say, put a Gundam in the pool, or have a shooting range, I think me and Mil would both lodge a protest."  
  
Heero actually smiled slightly, but it was weak. "I... I'm not sure..."  
  
"Please tell us and we'll discuss it," Milliardo urged gently.  
  
Heero looked at them then, and his cheeks were slightly pink with embarrassment. That was startling enough, but his next words stunned both Duo and Milliardo. "I've found a... " He stopped and then tried again, "There was a man on a street corner today and he said that I could have her for twenty dollars. He told me that she was very friendly, clean, and would give me a lot of love. He told me that twenty dollars was very inexpensive for what she could give me."  
  
Duo's eyes turned into saucers. Milliardo sat up straight, not sure what to say, but feeling damned uncomfortable. Was Heero THAT naive? Duo seemed to think so. "Uh, Heero," Duo began hesitantly, "They don't usually let you KEEP them... uh, yeah they can be friendly, and all, but... jeez! Heero, if you were that hard up for companionship, I could have-" Milliardo cleared his throat and glared. Duo started and then looked sheepish as he amended, "Guess not, but... I'm sure I know some people who could have-"  
  
Heero clenched his hands. "I want to keep her. I know that they are a great deal of responsibility, and that I don't have any right to ask you for this, but... She makes me feel good, Duo... Mil. I like that."  
  
"Heero," Duo sighed. "We need to talk. You just can't bring these kind of girls home and-"  
  
"Duo, "Mil interrupted, suddenly understanding and beginning to laugh. "I don't think Heero is talking about..." and then he trailed off as a large dog, tail wagging and dragging a broken rope, came through the french doors.  
  
She went straight to Heero and tried to climb into his lap. His arms went around her and he looked suddenly very embarrassed. She was part hound, Milliardo saw, and mixed with some sort of sheep dog. Her hair was long and amber and she had one blue eye and one warm brown one. Her tail was a feathery banner.  
  
"A dog?" Duo said and then burst into laughter so hard that he had tears in his eyes. When he was finally able to speak again, he said, "Uh, Heero, I thought... well, never mind what I thought, but... a dog? I never thought of you as a pet kind of guy."  
  
Heero looked down at the dog and a smile Milliardo hadn't seen before tugged at the stoic man's lips. The dog looked back at him just as adoringly. Milliardo was not a 'pet kind of guy' either, but he found himself giving into the young man without a second thought. "We will have to make her a kennel out here. Large dogs can be destructive in a home."  
  
Heero looked completely relieved and his grip tightened on the dog. She wagged her tail even harder. "Thank you," Heero murmured against her fur.  
  
Duo blinked at the lack of argument. "Uh, Mil, about that motorcycle I've been wanting..."  
  
"Spoiled brat!" Milliardo responded promptly. "Work for it, if that's what you wish!"  
  
Duo looked indignant. "Heero gets a dog and I get squat?" He looked like a petulant child just then, but Milliardo saw his eyes dancing with love and a 'thank you' of his own.  
  
"You get enough," Milliardo whispered in his ear as Heero moved off into the yard to play with his new dog.  
  
"More than enough," Duo agreed and kissed him deeply. Just when Milliardo began to heat up under the press of Duo's body, Duo suddenly jumped up and winked at him as he said, "I'll show how much of a wonderful guy I think you are in a more private place, later, okay?" This new show of consideration warmed Milliardo even more as Duo walked towards Heero, calling out, "Heero, my man?! We gotta talk about paying some guy on the street twenty bucks for a mutt that should have been free. You gotta work on your street smarts some more!"  
  
Three men, one dog, and a bundle of past experiences that made them unique in the world, Milliardo thought. Without each other, they were alone and adrift in a sea of people who couldn't ever understand them. Together they were whole, content, and... a family.  
  
end


End file.
